


Code Blue

by Graymalkyn



Series: Triad [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Anger, Comrades, Control Ending, Destroy Ending, F/M, Family, Flirting, Friendship/Love, Implied Sexual Content, Loyalty, Memories, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Romance, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 50,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5749738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graymalkyn/pseuds/Graymalkyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to Code Red (MEBB 2015). Renegon Sunday Shepard jumps back into action: tied by the bureaucracy of the Alliance and the Council, it is up to her team to heal the old wounds between the people of the galaxy. Garrus Vakarian, her confidant and friend, has one last chance to prove to Sunday that she has something else to live for. Lives will be saved and lost, as "many decisions lie ahead; none of them easy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Truth Confined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers for Code Red.

She wasn’t used to being stationed in the same place for so long. It had been three months since she’d been taken to Vancouver and subjected to every possible test that the Alliance required. Prodded, questioned, and watched on a daily basis, Sunday had grown tired of complaining and sulking, and had fallen into a state of apathy that had proven to be more effective at deterring people than anything else. She was still locked up, but at least she had been given her own apartment in Vanier Park.

With her wrapped hand, she jabbed the heavy bag that hung from the living room ceiling – a sharp, solid punch that always set the right mood. A twenty-minute routine, followed by a ten-minute one with the speed bag, and then she was good to get on the treadmill for thirty minutes – a quick protein shake and a shower, and Vega would be there to drive her to the barracks for her weekly clinical test. She’d tried to tell the doctors that her tiredness was not physical, that it was her mind that was keeping her up all night. Lying in bed was tortuous, and taking the pills they’d prescribed her only made her feel groggy and depressed.

 _“Just give me a task, something to do, anything,”_ she’d muttered, clenching her fists under the desk. But the physicians had looked at each other and shaken their heads. Day after day she walked the length of her minuscule apartment, a caged animal with only one song.

_Prepare yourselves for the Arrival._

Whenever silence hit her, those words would come back to her. She had to turn up the volume and hope that she could get lost in the dark beats of the music she was always listening to. It made her think of Afterlife and Aria, and the mocking words of the asari every time they’d parted ways. Well, she’d heeded the advice. She’d found herself a man to keep her warm. And now that man was dead.

A shadow loomed over her. She turned around so fast that she almost lost balance.  “Shit, Vega. I didn’t hear you come in.” She hopped off the treadmill and took off her earphones.

“Running again, Lola? Sorry to say that’s not gonna take you anywhere.” He shook her hand vigorously, since she’d forced him to drop the salute.

“I can always dream, can’t I,” she said, wiping her forehead with the wrist towel. “Seems I lost track of time?” She looked at the clock on the wall. “Huh. What do you know, I ran for an hour. I’ll go get a shower. Make yourself comfortable.”

“No need to hurry,” Vega replied, activating his omni-tool and checking the extranet settings as well as the security camera system in the apartment. He heard the water running and he thought that were he a kinky creep, he could be hacking into her bathroom cam. Well, kinky as well as more tech-savvy. Though if he were more proficient, he wouldn’t have found himself in that position. Anderson had found him on Omega after he’d torn a certain screen off the wall just because he hadn’t thought of another way to shut it down.

This time, he hoped he could get the job done without breaking anything. He found the footage of her exercise routine and looped it. He just needed sixty minutes. Shepard had told him that she’d been running for an hour, so… “Make that an hour and a half,” he muttered to himself. He checked the results and smiled, satisfied.

“What are you up to?” She sounded suspicious. He turned around and found her standing at the door, wearing her downtime uniform. There was a towel hanging from her shoulders; she’d just stopped dabbing her short black hair.

Vega cleared his throat. “Admiral Anderson wanted me to show you some vids that you’ve been getting to one of the Normandy channels.” He entered a key and the image of a peaceful-looking drell filled the screen.

Sunday took a few steps back, feeling that her heart was beating faster than when she exercised. “When… When did you get this?” She tried to swallow but her throat refused to respond. She finally managed to tear her eyes off the screen and she looked at Vega, who was visibly uncomfortable.

“There are four messages – the last one arrived this morning. Hey listen… If anybody asks, you’ve never seen’em, alright? Oh, and by the way, Anderson said---”

“Got it. I’m not supposed to get info from the outside.” She tossed the towel away and it landed on a chair that had never been used. She breathed in and out slowly, and after a short while she said, “Okay, I’m ready.”

“I uh… I’ll be in the other room. To give you some privacy, ya know.”

But she shook her head. “Stay. I…” She let out a deep breath. “I think I need something stronger than a protein shake, and I don’t like drinking alone.”

“I’ll see what I can find,” James offered, and he dashed into the small kitchen. Everything was impeccable, except for the trash can, which was overstuffed with empty packages and soda cans. He snorted – it reminded him too much of his own place, at least till he’d joined the Alliance. He opened the fridge and found six bottles of Canadian lager, still in their original pack.

When he returned, he was holding two of them in his hands. He found her curled up on a corner of the couch. Her Panamanian-rum eyes were fixed on the frozen image. “Are you sure you want me to---?”

“Yes,” she replied categorically. A short while later she added, in a softer tone, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Alright, Lola,” Vega sighed. “Here we go.”

* * *

His voice hadn’t changed, but it was easy to see that the fire that had once roared within him was now dying out. She’d wanted a life with him and with Jacob –the best of both worlds: the spirit and the body-, but when Jacob had died, she’d been unable to pursue Thane’s companionship as anything more than that. She felt something deep and clean for the man that was now telling her about his son, the Citadel, his suffering and…

_I love you._

A chill ran down her spine. Just like that, he’d said the words that she’d never heard from anyone, that she’d never felt like saying to anyone. She felt James shifting uncomfortably on the other side of the couch. She took a swig of the cold beer and stared at the bottle in silence.

“You okay?” James’s voice was friendly.

“Yeah… It’s just he’d never… We’ve never…” She let out a sigh. “We had nothing, and everything. Thane’s got Kepral’s syndrome. Have you ever heard the expression ‘Humidity kills’? It’s actually true in his case. Basically, he’ll find it harder and harder to breathe until…”

“Shit. Nothing can be done about it?”

“No. Just… Make him comfortable, I guess.” She drank some more, letting the cool drink run down her throat. Somehow, it tasted bitterer than she remembered. “Play the second vid.”

Talking about Kolyat, doing the right things, setting an example: Thane still wanted to make the universe a brighter place. Short and straight to her heart. Sunday felt so angry… She understood the reasons for her arrest, but still…

_“The shit you’ve done…” Anderson had said, almost livid. It had been Hackett who had interceded and reminded him that she’d acted with his permission in Bahak. But Anderson had shaken his head. “That’s not what I meant.”_

She knew that both of them had been disappointed with her involvement with Cerberus, but she didn’t regret it one bit. Except for the outcome, of course. Losing her freedom, her chance to communicate with her comrades… Thane’s voice, longing for a word from her. She clenched her fist and drank the rest of the contents in her bottle.

“I’ll get you another,” James said, disappearing into the kitchen.

She smiled briefly, thinking that perhaps Anderson wasn’t so mad at her these days. He’d allowed her to see the vids, and he’d practically given James to her. Hell of a soldier, she could tell. Alliance groupie, though not as much as Kaidan. She wondered what Jacob would make of him. Would have made. She threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. In the end, Jacob would have patted James on the shoulder and told him that it was okay, that he’d also treated her with deference at first, but that he’d learned that she was just one of them – something he’d discovered in time, not right away. She’d wanted to avoid getting that kind of attention from James, and so she’d insisted on being called by her name. James had eventually changed her name for “Lola,” or simply “Shepard,” and she’d never asked why.

“Here.” James gave her the second bottle and slumped back onto the couch. “This guy… He seems like a good father.”

“He’s trying,” Sunday conceded. “He’s not perfect, but…”

“Better late than never,” James murmured, taking a short sip. “Want me to play the third one?”

As soon as the message was over, a dead silence set in between them. James wished that he’d left her alone, but at the same time, perhaps she would need---

“Give me a minute, Vega,” her deep, harsh voice demanded. _Alone,_ she’d meant. Hell yeah – he didn’t need to be asked twice. James nodded and went back into the kitchen, knowing that when he returned into the living room she’d have chugged down the rest of the beer. Poor guy. James understood the drell’s fear of dying in a hospital. That was no way for a warrior soul to go, and from what Shepard had told him, that guy had been one of the most courageous men he’d ever heard of.

Thane had talked about a trip to Earth. Earth was a water planet, everyone knew that. Not good for him, but of course he’d been there for her. Even though she was not in New Mexico, she was on Earth. She was from Earth. He’d probably gone there to be closer to her. James sighed. Lately he’d found himself longing for familiar places. He’d ask for a little shore leave when all this Shepard-sitting thing was over. He didn’t think that it would go on for long. Having Shepard inside that shoebox with the shit that could happen out there… The Alliance couldn’t be so blind.

“You said there was one more message?” Sunday’s voice brought him back to reality. She left the empty bottles on the counter and grabbed the third one, the last one. James noticed that she didn’t look particularly sad, but instead she seemed to be about to snap.

“I’ll play the fourth one, but I think it would be best if you watched it alone. This is getting too personal and---”

She nodded. “Got it.”

They went back to the living room and she sat on the couch – parted legs, leaning forward. Whatever she expected to hear was unknown to James, who walked away as soon as he heard the word “Siha” from the drell’s lips.

He went out to the balcony and breathed in the cool air coming from English Bay. The dusky red tones of the dying sunlight blended with the blue waters below. So peaceful. He’d seen many places since he’d joined the Alliance. Colonies, uncharted worlds, the dark empty void of space… But nothing ever seemed so beautiful to him as Earth.

James tilted his head and cracked his neck. He’d skipped his daily routine to be there that evening. If the vid thing went on for long, he could go for a run, or perhaps he could use some of her equipment. In a way, he was just as trapped as Shepard. He could always walk away though, and Anderson wouldn’t hold it against him. He wasn’t that kind of guy.

His omni-tool flashed. _Talk of the Devil…_ “Admiral.”

“Vega. Did you show her the vids?”

“She’s watching the last one now.”

“Listen, son. We have just received word… A drell going by the name of Tannor Nuara passed on last week. Only drell there that matched his characteristics. His body has been collected by his only living relative, who we assume is the person that sent the last message.”

“Ah shit… Er, sorry, sir.” James grimaced. “Should I be the one to…?”

“No. I’ll have to talk to her about it when you bring her in tomorrow. This might come up during the final revision of her case, and I wouldn’t want her to be unprepared.” Anderson sighed. “What’s her status?”

“She’s more than ready to go back to work,” James said confidently.

“That your opinion, Lieutenant?”

“Sir. Yes, sir. In my opinion, sir.”

“We’ll see what we can do. Let her have a good night’s sleep and pick her up tomorrow at 1100. The hearing starts after midday, so I’ll get to spend some time with her after my meeting with the committee.”

James felt relieved. At last, that bureaucratic nightmare would be over. He’d seen the vids about her deeds, read the reports. He’d been there when the crew of the Normandy had been taken to the barracks and interrogated about her activity in the Terminus system. Many of them had been Cerberus, but some of them –Chakwas, those engineers, the pilot– were fiercely loyal to her. They’d all sung the same tune: they were using Cerberus to do what the Council and the Alliance had refused to do. She had to be reinstated. It was a no-brainer.

“Vega,” she called from inside the apartment. Her voice sounded deep and serious. Not that she was the merry kind, James thought as he walked back in; he’d rarely seen her laugh. Then again, she had very few reasons to be happy. “I need to get a message through. I know this could get you in trouble---”

“Shepard…” he started to say, but she raised her hand, silencing him.

“This friend of mine… I need to know that he’s fine. I don’t know when I’ll be out, or if I’ll be able to go to the Citadel any time soon, but---”

 _Sorry, Anderson._ “Admiral Anderson has just called,” he blurted out. “He… He said that a drell under an assumed name died a few days ago. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t know if it’s Thane,” she hissed, more to herself than to him.

“The Admiral will fill you in tomorrow.” He saw her raise her head, and looked away. “He has requested that you be ready for pick-up at 1000. I am to drive you to HQ and escort you to an office where you will stay until Admiral Anderson is available to meet you. If you have any questions, you can contact me through one of the guards stationed outside.” He saluted her and hurried to the door. When he was about to go out, he released the loop from the video system, and he locked the door behind him.

Sunday curled up on the couch and stared at the empty screen. They had to be wrong. Thane wouldn’t give up so easily. He’d beaten the odds before. He’d once proved the doctors wrong when they’d told him that his body would no longer be fit for duty. He’d showed them all. He’d even lived to tell his son the tale of the suicide mission.

*

_His fingers stroked hers, showing a compassion that she was not used to seeing. “Siha, had I been able to exchange my life for Jacob’s, I would have done it without hesitation.”_

_“Don’t say that,” she replied. “I cannot even fathom the thought of you dying, especially not now.”_

_“He was a young man, full of vitality and desire. He had a future ahead, one that included you.”_

_“Stop.” Her voice, unwillingly harsh. “Please.” A softer tone that she’d discovered because of him._

_“Very well.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead softly. His lips felt colder now in comparison to Jacob’s. It wasn’t meant to be that way. “If you need me, you know where I’ll be.”_

_They traveled across the parts of the galaxy that nobody wanted to deal with together with the rest of the crew, taking care of the merc gangs. Thane accompanied her and Garrus to deal with their bases and cargoes, and sometimes Jack and Grunt came along. And amidst the bullets, the detonations, and the blood, she could breathe. She was in control of her life. She was alive._

_The moments with Thane were a succession of memories that she would never see as clearly as he did, but she felt them as part of her soul. Every reassuring word, every gentle caress cocooned her, and she grew stronger again because he cared. There would never be physical intimacy between them, but she knew that the bond that they formed in those months that they spent together would linger in her memory long after he would be gone. He had saved her soul._

*

“And now you’re gone,” Sunday whispered. She wanted to believe that it was some other drell that had died, but she would probably be deluding herself. Something foreign and unpleasant took hold of her – a dark truth that tasted of ashes and choked her. Once again, she couldn’t breathe.

The rest of the night was spent on memories that had never been.

* * *

Get up. Get dressed. Get ready. Get in the car. Get out of the car. Stay here.

Wait.

Anderson would be there any minute now. Sunday breathed in and out slowly, her mind lost in controlled gestures and phrases; anything that could help her out was welcome. What to say, what to scream, what to be quiet about. Questions, speeches, arguments… Where was the action? She felt more and more trapped with each passing day, as if she were tied to an end of a rope, and on the other end…

She stood up and looked at the time. Anderson was late. Strange. She turned to the window. Just another cloudy day. She wondered if they would send her to watch one of the colonies. Probably a distant one, as far away from them as possible.

The door behind her opened and she turned around. James looked agitated.

“Shepard,” he called. “The defense committee wants to see you right away. Come with me.”

*** * * * ***


	2. Getting Used To Life

“ETA: ten hours to the Widow Relay... unless the Reapers catch up with us first, right?” Joker announced somberly before he went on to monitor the route he’d traced.

“What do you think, Liara? Will he make it?” Sunday’s eyes tried to avoid Kaidan’s body. He was lying on the table, already hooked on a stabilizer. They’d left most of his armor on to avoid unnecessary trauma, but his helmet was off, and she couldn’t help but notice the bruising that was already creeping up his face.

“Kaidan has always been resistant. He will be fine. Look over here, Shepard. This will sting - don't move.” The asari wiped Sunday’s eyebrow with an antiseptic cloth and she clenched her teeth. “How are you feeling?”

“What do you think?” she asked, bitterly.

“I’m asking about Earth---”

“I know you are.” She drummed the sides of the chair impatiently. “You’ve heard what I said to Hackett. I meant every word, Liara.” She gave her old friend a stern look. “I’ll have to make the Council help us, whether they like it or not. Anderson’s counting on us, and I won’t let him down.”

“The Alliance---”

“Fuck the Alliance,” Sunday snarled as she stood up. “They’re the reason why thousands of people are dying down there every minute! What’d they do with the intel I got, huh? They sat on it. They used it to warm their asses, and instead of letting me go out there, they locked me up. So fuck them all!”

“But it’s not them, is it?” Liara sounded serious. “We’re doing this for the people, not for the Alliance, or the Council.” She pressed Sunday’s arm briefly. “I know we can do this. I’ll work as hard as I can, and we’ll stop the Reapers if it’s the last thing we do.”

Sunday shook her head. “Sorry. It’s just…” She looked at Kaidan. “This is not the most promising start.”

The asari gave her a look that had _"concern"_ written all over it. “Why don’t you go lie down for a while?” Liara finally suggested. “I’ll set up my things and let you know when it’s time to get ready.”

* * *

“ _Commander_ Bailey, huh.” Sunday smiled as she shook his hand. “Congrats, man. So, who’d you kill for it?”

“The former Executor,” Bailey replied in deadpan fashion. Sunday narrowed her eyes. “Yeah… Pallin. It was… Don’t ask me to explain it, ‘cause I don’t get it myself. One minute I was trying to take him in to the main office for interrogation, and the next we were struggling for the gun.”

“Wow, that’s… odd.”

“Quite. In any case, Udina gave me this promotion and a slap on the back, and here I am, having more work than I should. I cannot even take five bloody minutes to try to contact Earth.”

“Got family there?” she asked, as they walked to the elevators.

“Yeah…” He didn’t say anything else.

“Listen, Bailey… This drell---”

“I knew you’d come asking for him,” Bailey sighed. “Sorry about that.”

“So it’s true then.”

“Sadly, yes. But Kolyat is still around. He moved into his old man’s apartment, I heard. We haven’t talked much lately; he’s working for one of my men now. He asked for some time off a few days ago – that’s how we learned about it. I can give you his address, if you want. I’ll upload it to your nav system.”

Sunday nodded slowly. Even though she’d accepted Thane’s death as soon as James had told her about it, it was evident that part of her still wanted to believe. But talking to Kolyat would have to wait, since Kaidan and the Council had priority. She couldn’t help but think of what Thane would say if he saw her immersing in her work. She didn’t know if he would approve. For the first time, it occurred to her that there were still so many things that she didn’t know about him; things that she’d never know now.

She became aware that Bailey was watching her. She straightened up and followed him outside the elevator.

* * *

Sunday heard every word coming out of the Councilor’s mouth, and all she could think about was _him._ _He_ had to be there, and knowing him, he’d be right where the action was. He’d never abandon his people if Palaven was in danger. But finding him in the battlefield would not be easy. Unless…

“Councilor: you’ve got a deal,” she said, interrupting Quentius. “I’ll get you your Primarch, and I’ll let you deal with him however you want as long as you get me what Earth needs.”

“Commander, diplomacy may not be your forte, but I certainly can’t argue with your swiftness,” Quentius replied approvingly. “Were your insubordination not a recurrent problem, I’d say there might be a bit of turian in you.”

“I’ve got a friend who would make a few jokes about that,” she smirked. “Udina, I’m off to collect the Primarch. You’d better get off your ass and get Hackett what he needs.”

Councilor Udina gave her a death stare as she waved him goodbye.

* * *

“Set up an outpost near that comm tower,” Garrus commanded as he rearranged the positions of his men on the map. Two units at the back and three units to the front… It would leave an open flank. One of his units was being tended to, and it would be hard to replace them. “Marius! Tell the techs to raise the turrets on these locations!” He raised his arm to send the coordinates and then saw a light in his omni-tool, flashing dark red.

*

_“I’ve set up a private channel. It runs through the Normandy comm system, so if you get spaced again, I’ll be the first to know.” He shushed her before she could object to his paranoia, and uploaded his data to her omni-tool. “Some things should never happen again.”_

_“They really won’t." Sunday shrugged as she played with the spoon and the tub of yogurt. "Can you seriously imagine the Alliance spending so much money on me? Now that Cerberus is out of the question, I’d better take care. So, how does this work? Is it a distress beacon?”_

_“Something like that, yeah. You can send a pre-recorded message, which will loop---”_

_“Shit, Garrus. If we ever use it, the last thing I need to hear is your voice panicking again and again. Can I silence it?”_

_“Input the key. Don’t you go forgetting it. I know your head can be full of crap, but make some room for it and memorize it.” He showed her the code. “And there you go.”_

_“Splendid. Will it be automatically activated if you get hit by another rocket?” Sunday stood up and poured herself some coffee. “I bet you’re doing this so that I can save your sorry ass once again.”_

_“Well, that wouldn’t be bad for a change,” he smirked._

*

He’d set it to flash that color because it matched her eyes. Stupid thing to do. He hadn’t told her and she hadn’t appeared to be interested in asking. Some things were better left unsaid, and some others… Garrus would never admit it, but his fingers trembled slightly when he pressed the button. Damn, that _had_ been a bad idea after all. They’d promised to use it only in case of emergencies and now it was flashing. Then again…

He looked around. The Reapers were slaughtering them. If she was contacting him because something bad had happened to her... "Better make this quick," he muttered to himself, "before I lose my mind.”

As they were systems away, the quality of the message was understandably poor. Still, her low voice, confident as always, was saying everything he wanted to hear.

_”I’m coming for you, Garrus. Hang in there.”_

In spite of the explosions in the land and sky, the grim panorama, and the burden of command, he let out a sigh of relief.

And for the first time in days, he smiled.

* * *

“He said something about calibrations…?” The inflexion in Primarch Victus’s voice was significant, and it made her smile.

“Yeah, that’s kinda his thing.” Sunday patted the older turian on the arm, to his surprise. “I’ll see what I can do for your Conclave, Victus. Not sure if they’ll listen, though. The asari want to sit out, and the krogan…” She sighed. “I once met a decent one. A merc, actually, so maybe not _that_ decent. Anyway, he had this vision… Let’s say he was more open-minded. His half-brother’s the leader of that clan now. No love lost between us, to be honest. But perhaps, there's someone else we could talk to…” Her eyes lit up when she thought about Grunt. “I may have some pull with one of them. One of mine. Killed a thresher maw on foot and now everybody pisses themselves over it. Oh, and I’ll have Liara talk to the Dalatrass. If it were up to me, I’d bypass her and go straight to the STG. But---” She took a look at Victus, who seemed to be barely following her, and she smiled, somewhat embarrassed.

“Diplomacy, commander. That, and chain of command.” Victus sounded amused. “Neither of us likes doing things this way, but right now, the fate of the galaxy depends on it.”

“Right you are,” she nodded. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go check on my crew. I would talk to Garrus, but he’d probably ignore me like he usually does when he gets his hands on the giant guns.”

As she walked to the elevator, she recognized there was a certain eagerness in her gait that had nothing to do with the important things finally getting sorted out. Garrus was there, and she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him till she’d found him on Menae. Liara and Kaidan had been friendly faces; even James had become a figure that she enjoyed having around. But Garrus, her good old Garrus, was different.

 _What the hell, duty can wait,_ she thought merrily. The door to the forward battery opened before her, and she was greeted by the sound of the tools. Garrus wasn’t just content with calibrating the weapons electronically; he needed to touch them. But when she was about to announce herself, she realized that he was talking to someone on the intercom. She was about to leave when she made out her name.

 _“---think Shepard can pull it off?”_ Victus’s voice.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll get it done, one way or another. She can be ruthless. I’m not saying that she’ll shoot the salarians in the knee if they don’t cooperate, but…”

_“Sounds like me, but with a greater affinity for bloodshed. She’ll be a fine ally.”_

“Everything you’ve heard about her is true, sir.”

_“I’ve never doubted your word, Garrus. But after all your talk about her, it was only natural for me to question whether your judgment had been affected by your… fondness."_

It was only a couple of seconds of silence, but to Sunday, it felt like an eternity. So, it was evident to others as well, not just to her. She’d always felt that Garrus’s attachment wasn’t just a friendship they’d forged in the battlefield, but she refused to believe that he’d ever seen her as a female. As far as she knew, he wasn’t really interested in humans.

“No need to be concerned, Primarch,” the younger turian resumed. “Our relationship is strictly professional. We wouldn’t even dream of spoiling it with sentimentalism. And now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some formulae to work on.”

She shook her head and opened the door once again. “Garrus?” she shouted, pretending that she'd just come in. “You there?”

“Right here, Shepard.” He raised his hand and rattled a wrench. “I was just talking to Victus. He’s got a good feeling about you. And _I_ have vouched for you, so…” He stood up and cleaned his hands. “Don’t make me look bad, will you?”

“I won’t, I promise.” She smiled and patted him on the arm awkwardly. “Vakarian!”

“Shepard,” he replied.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Sooo… How’s everything?” _You’re such an idiot. What is he gonna say? You saw Palaven burning. You sound just like Liara. Stop it._ “I mean…”

“I know what you mean,” he said seriously. “What do you want me to say, Shepard? You’ve seen it already. This Conclave is a long shot, and I know you’re a sharp shooter, but…”

“Fishing for a compliment? You’re a decent marksman yourself,” she said. “Barely.”

“Barely decent, me?” He snorted. “Shepard, once this is all over, I’ll drag your ass to a shooting range and I’ll show you what ‘decent’ really means, then. In fact, I think I’ll make you redefine that word,” he purred.

She chuckled and breathed out slowly. Taunting each other was good. Better than awkward silences. Then she remembered. “Wait… What about your family?”

“Yeah, that…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I haven’t heard from them for some days now. I set up a channel like the one we have, but… I’m guessing that it’s better if no signals come out of Palaven these days. Nothing that the Reapers can trace back.” He noticed the look on her face and patted her shoulder. “It’s alright. It’s my dad we’re talking about, remember? He’ll know what to do. When I returned to Palaven from… Well, when you were taken away… I told my father everything…”

“Talk to me,” she asked as she leaned against a panel.

She heard him recount the time that they’d spent apart and to her, he could have been telling her a children’s story. Father and son reconciling, working together to beat the odds and save their homeworld… He’d been busy trying to prevent the unavoidable. But in all truth, they’d all been doing things. Garrus and his token force, Kaidan and his students, Liara and the Shadow Broker business, Kolyat and Bailey working for C-Sec… The thought of her wasting time in that apartment made her feel even more useless now.

“I heard they locked you up,” he said bluntly, unwittingly bringing her back from her thoughts of helplessness. “I tried to contact you, but…”

“There was no way to contact me,” she shrugged. “And nothing for me to do, really. I spent most of my time exercising. I didn’t want to lose my mind.”

“I can see the results, if you don’t mind me saying. I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but your waist looks… smaller.”

“I bet that’s a good thing to say, coming from a turian?” she smirked.

“You’d be surprised,” he replied with a half-smile. He cleared his throat. “In any case, you shouldn’t make much of it. I know you and Thane are an item, so I won’t make any comments that might make you uncomfortable.”

“What’s uncomfortable about saying I’m thinner?” Sunday frowned. “And Thane is…” She found herself at a loss for words. Saying that he was dead sounded too cold and too true. “Gone” just made it inconveniently ambiguous. “He... died some days ago. I’ve only found out recently. Didn’t get a chance to see him again after we parted ways.”

“Sunday, I’m…” Garrus swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean---”

“I still haven’t had time to mourn him, Garrus. It feels unreal. When Jacob died, there were so many other things going round my head. And now it’s the same.” She let out a bitter chuckle. “Perhaps that’s good, isn’t it? It’s as if the universe was telling me to move on, go on with my life because we’re running out of time.” She looked up and blinked to fight back the tears that had suddenly formed in her eyes.

*

_“I think you’ve had one too many, Shepard,” he said, holding her by the waist and pulling her into the elevator. “You can’t afford to be this drunk when we get to the Citadel. You’ll be giving the Council every reason to mistrust you.”_

_“The Council can fuck’emselves in the ass with a flaming bottle of Ryncol,” she grunted slurredly. “Speaking of… Wrex had a bottle of that stuff in’is locker, din’t he?” She leaned on him. “Why don’t you be a darling and g-gerrit? We can drink it together in’is honor, Garris.” She frowned. “Garris? No no, wait… Garr-_ oos. _” She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, nuzzling him._

_“We’re almost there,” he murmured, not knowing what to make of her behavior. He was aware that Wrex’s death had hit her harder than Ashley’s. He understood that she had drunk more than she should. But at the moment, he couldn’t keep up with this human – he just couldn’t read her. “I’ll get you to your cabin, and then you’ll have some sleep.”_

_“Am fffuckin’ awake, Garris.”_

“Garrus.”

_“Valkyrian.” She poked him on the nose. “Will you take me to bed?”_

_“I’ll carry you if you can’t walk, yes,” he offered._

_She just stared at him and laughed. “I can walk. I’m still standing, aren’t I?” She pushed him away and showed him that she could rely on her feet. The elevator stopped abruptly and she lost balance. He grabbed her by the arm. “I’m still standing,” she repeated as she wriggled away from his grasp, her voice a murmur now. “In the end, I am still standing.”_

_He looked down and the first thing he saw was the tears hanging from the edge of her eyelashes. They were suspended there. He’d never see them fall._

_She rubbed her face with her left hand, her right hand feeling the walls around her. “I’ll find my way. Thank you, Garrus.”_

_*_

His hands wrapped around her right hand and she looked up in surprise. “I’m here for you, Sunny,” he said softly. “Whatever you need, know that you’ve got a friend in me.”

She raised her left hand and stroked the side of his face. The scars were fading, but she’d never forget the panic she’d felt when she thought he was dying. The groaning, the gargling coming from his throat that signaled blood, already spilling all over the floor; the smell of burnt flesh… No. No, she couldn’t go through that again. She wouldn’t get close to someone. If anything happened, it would be unnecessarily cruel...

Before she could withdraw her hand, however, he took a step forward. “Listen…” he started saying, but then the lights went out.

“What the hell…” she muttered. She raised her omni-tool. “Joker, what’s going on?” Silence. The lights flickered and then died again. She switched to the emergency channel. “Joker?”

“---mander, the syst---ding. EDI’s bl---”

“Let me clean it up,” Garrus said, modifying the frequency. “Joker, speak now.”

“EDI’s not responding, and Traynor’s fingers can’t work any faster; we’re force-starting the systems. Adams tried to use the emergency route to the core, but he says it’s full of smoke. He’s on his way there now.” The lights flickered once more before they finally stabilized. As soon as the doors were unlocked, Sunday and Garrus ran to the med bay.

“Doctor Chakwas, are you okay?” Garrus asked.

The medic looked at him, unfazed. “Why wouldn’t I be? The Normandy’s still the safest place in the universe.”

“But… The fire…” the turian mumbled, pointing to the AI core.

“It’s just a little smoke, and Adams is taking care of it,” she replied dismissively, and resumed her tasks.

“I’m going in,” Sunday said. Adams bypassed the door and she stepped into the little room where they’d placed the body of that gynoid that had almost killed Kaidan. If it had been activated… She realized that she didn’t have a pistol with her. “Shit,” she grunted. As if it had been a password, EDI’s servers lit up. She let out a sigh of relief. “Back online, EDI?”

An orange light, foreign to the room, greeted her amidst the smoke. “Yes, Shepard,” EDI replied, as she stepped forward in her new skin. The synth body still had to be polished, but somehow EDI had managed to make it work. “I am here.”

Sunday blinked, trying to comprehend what was going on. Garrus’s “Wow” shook her, and right away Adams and Copeland hummed approvingly. She turned around and saw the three men gaping at the curvy robotic body. She frowned and they walked away. “Why’d you do this, EDI? Do you have any idea how upset Joker and Traynor are?”

“I will apologize in person, then,” EDI replied gladly. Sunday grabbed her by the arm.

“Not so fast. We’ll have a little chat first." She sighed. "I just wanna make sure that my pilot won’t have a heart attack when he sees you…”

...


	3. No Muzzle

“Fuck you, Joker, you little cunt!” Jack laughed. Sunday shook her head. “What? I’ve heard you say worse things! You can uncover those ears now, kids,” she said to her students. They just chuckled and when Kahlee Sanders gave them a stern look, they pretended to be interested in checking their amps.

“Nice ink,” Vega commented.

“Thanks. Got any?”

“A few things, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled coyly. “I can show you later if you want…”

Sunday rolled her eyes and sat down next to Steve.

“Whassat? You jealous, Sunny?” Jack sounded amused. “I can see you’re not getting any. I told you that drell wouldn’t have any energy left for some good old---” She stopped when she heard James clear his throat loudly. “What?”

“He… died some weeks ago,” Vega said in a low voice.

Jack wrinkled her nose. “Shhh-oot,” she muttered. “Shepard, I’m sorry.”

“’salright,” she replied monotonously. “We knew it was gonna happen eventually.”

Jack stared at the back of Shepard’s head. She understood her better than the commander thought. Shepard might have been a loner, just like she used to be, but Jack was sure that whatever pressure Shepard was under, it was a hundred times higher than anything she’d ever experienced. It was unfair to leave the lives of so many people in the hands of only one person, all the better reason for Shepard to have someone to help her ease that tension. “Hey, I think it’s time you got inked too. Since we’re going to the Citadel, we’d better get it done soon.”

“I don’t think so,” Sunday replied.

“Oh, you think it was a suggestion, sweetheart? Let me rephrase it, then: you, me, tattoo parlor. I’ll take the kids, and Vega can come too.”

* * *

“Don’t be such a wuss,” she told Sunday as they walked into Purgatory. “I can’t believe it was your first one. Tough chick like you, I would have thought you’d gotten some work done before.”

“Before Cerberus reconstructed me, you mean? No, I only had some ass-kicking scars.” Sunday quipped, moving her arm to rotate her left shoulder blade. She winced. “Fffuck… I shouldn’t have listened to you. Is this gonna hurt for long? You haven’t even told me what you chose for me…”

“It’s a surpriiise, Shepard. You’ll find out next time you take a shower. Come on, you’re starting to sound like an old hag!” Jack scoffed and elbowed her. “Let’s have some fun tonight, you and me! Get a few drinks, dance a bit - in your case, shuffle your feet for a while… Find a man, perhaps…” She noticed that Vega was waving at them from the upper floor. “Speaking of which… What’s the deal with Muscles? Are you two---?”

“No way. James is a pal, is all. You wanna go there, I won’t say a thing. I think I’ll just stay at the bar downstairs and have a few drinks. I’ve got tons of shit to do while I’m here.”

Jack huffed in frustration. “Fine, suit yourself. I’m gonna check out the dance floor on the higher level. I’ve heard they’ve got some sick beats. I’ll join you in a while, alright?”

She saw Sunday walk away and let out a little grunt. This wasn’t going the way she was expecting, so either Shepard was still affected by Thane’s death or things were more serious than Jack had initially thought. She wished that Shepard would allow her to set her up with someone. It didn’t have to be love – nobody had time for that. Vega seemed like the perfect choice, but since Sunday hadn’t seemed interested, she’d just have to keep looking.

She ordered a drink and scoped the area. Good-looking people, great music… And then she saw Garrus walk in through the main door. She smirked. “Hey Garrus!” she shouted and waved. The turian saw her from afar and recognized her. He approached her casually, but to Jack, he just looked tired. “Aw shit, not you too!” she groaned. “I was just telling Sunny that she needs to relax a bit!”

“And she didn’t listen to you, did she?” The turian ordered a drink and rested his elbow on the counter. “She never listens.”

“But she does listen to you. You’re her man!” Jack shouted over the loud music.

Garrus scoffed. “Yeah, because that’s how she sees me…” He was about to drink when Jack grabbed him by the arm.

“I didn’t mean her man like that, I just meant---” She opened her eyes wide. “Holy shit, wait a sec… You’re into her, Garrus?”

“Gaping doesn’t really suit you, you know,” the turian replied gruffly, breaking free from her.

Jack slapped him on the back. “Well, bend me over and spank me with a singularity: you _are_ into her!” She seemed genuinely surprised. “I mean… I always thought there was something there, but between Thane and Jacob… Does she know? You have to tell her!”

Garrus chuckled. “Look at you. Who would have said you’d become such a gossip?”

“It’s not like that! I just---” Jack scowled. “Ugh, you two are gonna be the death of me. Know what? Do whatever the fuck you want. If you wanna waste time pining for someone who’s available and who could use some company from someone she cares about, it’s your problem.”

“Damn right it’s my problem,” Garrus muttered bitterly. Jack rolled her eyes and left him alone.

Though he hated to admit it, perhaps she was right. The problem was timing, as usual. That evening that they’d arranged to meet at the Citadel, before the Collectors and the wreckage and her untimely death, he was going to tell her that he was interested in her. He didn’t really know about love, and his sexual experiences had been limited. Even after working for C-Sec, he’d never been too close to humans, much less the way he’d come to be close to her. She was a real friend.

But then, if she was _just_ a friend, why had he ever considered asking her out? It was more than mere curiosity. He’d never been attracted to humans before, and he’d had to watch more than a few vids to understand that she had, on occasion, seemed to flirt with him. Not overtly, of course, but all the looks and the confidence and the bantering… Maybe the signs had been there all along? Spirits, he’d been an idiot… But then again, what if she was just being friendly?

Once again, he felt clueless.

Jack was right, he thought, gulping down his drink. He should just take a chance and at least see where they were standing. He’d never forgive himself if he let that go by. What he felt for her definitely went beyond mere friendship, and he was willing to figure it out. He climbed down the steps to the lower floor and spotted her at the bar.

“Hey there,” he said, trying to sound suave.

“Hey,” she nodded.

“Do you come here often?”

“ _Do I come_ … What are you doing?” she asked, squinting. “Did you eat those nuts? You know you can’t even touch those. They’ll give you cramps.”

“Way to ruin the mood, Shepard,” he chuckled nervously. “Come on, humor me.”

Sunday raised an eyebrow. What was he thinking? She shook her head and finished the rest of her drink. “You sure you wanna do this, Vakarian? I don’t think you can’t handle it.”

“Of course I can! Who do you think---? Why does everything need to be a challenge with you?” There was a hint of exasperation in his voice that she’d never heard before. It made her crack a smile.

“Alright, Garrus. I’ll indulge you. Are we strangers?”

“If you need to ask…” he droned, rubbing his forehead.

“Wow, Joker was right. You do have a pole up your ass sometimes. Okay, I’ll walk away and then approach you, and we’ll see if you’re as good as you say.” Sunday walked by the tables and after a minute or so, she returned to the bar. For her, everything felt strange. It was as if Garrus was her Garrus, but at the same time, he was just this guy, whose eyes followed her around the room as if she was the only person there. _This is madness,_ she thought, feeling her heart beating a bit faster than usual.

Just as she was reaching the counter, a turian moved closer to her. “Hey,” he purred. “I’ve been watching you. You’re something.” He held her hand warmly.

“I’m… something?” she repeated, confused. She cast a glance at Garrus, whose eyes were going from her to the turian, and was now approaching them.

“You seem to be interesting.” He stroked her fingers. “The name’s Ogrinn. You know,” he confided in a low voice, “I’ve got a ship and a mate, and---”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Garrus groaned and grabbed Shepard by the arm. “That’s like the oldest pick-up line in the universe. Do you seriously think it’ll work? Not a chance.”

“Guys, can you just---?” Sunday started saying, but the turians ignored her.

“Hey, back off,” Ogrinn said, standing between her and Garrus. “The lady and I are having a moment here.”

“You are? I think you might want to reconsider that.”

“Oh yeah? Or else what, you’re gonna make me?”

“Listen, you two should stop---” She tried to separate them, but once again, they refused to pay attention to her.

“Yeah. First of all, she’s not a ‘lady’ – right, Shepard? So don’t call her that.”

“Garrus…” Sunday sighed, shaking her head.

“Look man,” Ogrinn noted with a smirk, “I may not know much about mating with humans, but I don’t think you’ll be scoring any points by saying she’s not a lady. Perhaps I should just let you dig your own grave?” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

“Just stop it, you two!” Sunday said, wriggling from their grasp.

“Just a minute, Shepard.” Garrus shoved the other turian. “Do you even know who you’re dealing with? I---”

“Hey, Commander!” Vega shouted, slapping her enthusiastically on the shoulder blade.

Sunday’s system was suddenly overloaded with the most intense pain that she had ever experienced, and her eyes welled up with tears. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. She was so accustomed to the blows being cushioned by the shields and the armor that she’d forgotten what it felt like to have absolutely no control of her body. An invisible hand was crawling up her chest, clutching her heart and throat. No air. She needed to breathe. She was barely aware that Vega was giving her an odd look. She didn’t really care. She just had to get away from there.

She ran to the exit, past the line of people waiting to get in, away from those who chatted about dancers and soldiers and tech and the war. She banged on the elevator doors with clenched fists, shouting at the stupid contraption. One of the C-Sec officers tried to grab her by the arm, but desisted when she looked at him.

She stepped back and stumbled towards the stairs. She didn’t care if someone stared at her. By now, the tears were flowing in a way that seemed to her so strange, so unlike her. She never cried.

_If you’re a good girl and don’t scream, I’ll give you a little gift. Would you like that, my sweet?_

A memory of the childhood that she’d so quickly outgrown. The last time that she’d felt her tears running down her cheeks this way; unstoppable, they tore her apart, burning her, choking her.

She had screamed that day, just as she was doing it now; a wail that had longed to come out for such a long time. Her throat felt strained and swollen. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, trying to get a hold of herself. A long while happened till it was over. She plodded down the steps, breathing in and out deeply and evenly. She licked her salty lips and rubbed her eyes with her palms.

Suddenly she heard light steps coming towards her from below. Instinctively, she pressed her back against the wall and crouched. They were so close now…

“I was forwarded a report by an officer who knows you. I thought I’d find you here…” Bailey said, smiling gently.

* * *

They stepped out of the aircar and walked to the end of the platform in silence. He hadn’t asked any questions so far, and instead had led her there, when she’d been dreading and at the same time wishing to go since she’d returned to the Citadel.

The door opened and Kolyat greeted them. “It’s been a long time, Commander Shepard.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Bailey excused himself. “Meet me at the platform when you’re ready, Shepard.” Sunday mouthed a silent “thank you” and then turned to the young drell.

“Kolyat, I…” she said, her voice quivering. “I’m so sorry.”

“So am I, commander.” Kolyat saw her into the living room and invited her to take a seat. “But at least we had some time, and he didn’t suffer much. I trust you have received the messages I forwarded to the Normandy?”

“Yes, all four of them. I wish I could have---”

“No regrets, please. My father wouldn’t have wanted you to feel bound by actions not taken.” When he smiled, he looked so much like his father that Sunday found herself gripping the arms of the seat a little more intensely. “We enjoyed our trip to Earth. It is a beautiful place indeed. How painful it must have been for you to leave it under such circumstances.”

They talked about his new life working for Bailey’s division and his future. He asked her about the months that she had been relieved from duty. But she knew that they were just stalling for time, bracing themselves against a conversation that both were trying to avoid for different reasons.

“When I saw the vids,” she started, once she’d found the courage to do so, “I didn’t know what to feel. I was mad at my circumstances for not being able to be with him. I was desperate because I was so far away, and there was nothing I could do to make things better.” She leaned forward and rubbed her hands slowly. “But I think the thing I felt the most was guilt. I shouldn’t have encouraged him to stay aboard the Normandy all those months.” She raised her eyes and found his, watching her with gentleness. “I am sorry, Kolyat. I should have told him…” She stood up and walked to the window. The view of the Citadel always made her feel tiny. So fitting, considering how she saw herself at the moment. “It wasn’t fair, to him and to you.”

Kolyat walked up to where she was standing. “If it is any consolation,” he said quietly, “he knew.” He saw Sunday cast a furtive look at him and then avert her eyes just as quickly, blinking rapidly. “He didn’t tell me much about you two. He spoke about Commander Shepard as an important woman in this moment of his life. I think he loved you in his own way, and I also think he knew you loved him in your own way.”

“He said he loved me and I---I didn’t know what to think,” she confessed. “I’d never heard that from anyone in my whole life. And he said it so easily, so naturally… I felt guilty for not being able to love him back that way. He gave me his time, his patience… He tried to help me as much as he could. I wanted to love him for that. I did, but not--- I don’t know if I can explain it.”

The young drell sighed. “I understand what you mean. He would have understood it too.” He took a few steps and opened a box, taking a small book in his hands. He left it in hers. “I’d like you to keep this. It's a prayer book. You might find solace in it, as I did. During his final days, he urged me to be good, and find my happiness. I have been studying with the priests at the Presidium. That brings me peace.” He smiled. “But working for Commander Bailey also fulfills me. He would have encouraged you to do the same, and he would have reminded you that you are not alone. After all, these times are too dark and oppressive, and in the absence of air, it is hard for a fire to blaze the way it should.” He gazed at her candidly. “However bright its light may be.”

* * *

“Traynor, open communications with Tuchanka, clan Urdnot, and tell Wreav to get ready for pick-up.” Her steps were solid and swift, and she sounded focused once more as she saw the comm specialist rush to her station.

“Is everything alright, commander?” Joker’s voice gave away the fact that he knew about the incident at the bar. Still, he remained inquisitive in tone only, possibly because he’d been with her so long that asking her about it would be futile.

“Everything’s fine, Joker,” she replied. “I trust everyone’s on board?”

“They came back ten minutes before you did and I’m happy to report they’re all in their stations… Should you wish to talk to any of them, y’know. I’ll let them know we’re pulling out,” he said quickly.

Of course everyone already knew what had happened. She tried to ignore the implications. “Ready to go to the DMZ again, Moreau?”

“Aye aye, ma’am.”

Sunday stared at the galaxy map.

Diplomacy time was shit.

...


	4. tick tock tick tock

Dalatrass Linron grudgingly relented after Liara’s casual mention of the intel on the Sur’Kesh facility. She knew when she was outnumbered and at the moment, a violent krogan, a questionable turian, a deceptively quiet asari, and a human –the worst of the bunch, no doubt– were bullying her into releasing the cure for the genophage. She knew exactly how they had found out about the female krogan that had been taken to the STG facility, and she bitterly thought that it had been naïve of her to accept Doctor Solus’s petition to be reinstated after his “adventure” with Commander Shepard. It was evident now that Mordin had revealed too much.

What the Dalatrass still couldn’t understand was Shepard’s attitude. She had read Kirrahe’s reports on Virmire, and Shepard had not only had one of her crew –a krogan– killed because she had decided not to save the supposed cure, but a close Alliance officer had lost her life only to ensure that the cure, along with the facility, would be destroyed. To her understanding, Doctor Solus had gotten rid of Operative Heplorn with Shepard’s support, and the experiments that the disgraced operative had carried out had been wiped from existence.

But it had all been a performance, a well-executed one. She had to admit that, and she would be a fool if she didn’t feel concerned about it.

* * *

Sunday paced up and down the shuttle, too restless to sit down. So many things to do, and she didn’t even know if they’d have enough time. How long would it be till the clock struck “too late”? It was impossible to estimate that. For all they knew, Palaven was being obliterated, and there they were, solving a fifteen-hundred year old problem. Waste of her time, of everybody's time.

“Human, you’re making me nervous,” Wreav grunted. “You don’t want a nervous krogan in a shuttle.”

Sunday glared at him over her shoulder. “Better a nervous one than a dead one, don’t you think?”

“Hmph.” Wreav held onto his shotgun and looked away.

Shepard let out a frustrated sigh and shook her head. If Wrex were there, things would be so different. She didn’t trust Wreav. She could get behind the idea of being the savior of the race – that was precisely what he was aiming at. Still… She wondered whether the odds would be in Grunt’s favor if she were to support him. Taking over Urdnot… Perhaps another deal would be made before all this was over.

She was suddenly aware that someone was watching her. She cast a sideways glance and caught Garrus looking away quickly. “Sorry about yesterday,” she muttered. She’d forgotten to check on him, but at the same time, she hadn’t felt like doing it. Garrus was the last person she wanted to upset.

“No problem,” the turian said in a low voice. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all that matters, then.” He stood up and pretended to check the readings on the monitors.

Another pair of eyes settled on her. She closed her eyes. “Existential questions again, EDI?”

“Yes, Shepard.” The AI’s eyes went from her to Garrus, and she cocked her head. “But I believe that my questions can wait.”

* * *

“I do not know you, Commander. But it seems that our acquaintance trusts you enough to drag you into this conflict. Either that, or he hates you.” The feminine voice was deep and strained. She had to be in pain.

“Solus and I have had some disagreements in the past, but believe me when I tell you that I’m not doing this for Wreav. We’re getting you out of there right away, and you’ll remain aboard the Normandy for as long as you want.” Sunday took a step toward the glass that separated her from the pod. “I won’t be handing you over to that hot-headed bully---” The alarms blared once again. Sunday turned to Mordin. “We need to get going. Whatever’s coming this way will put up a fight, and---”

“No need to worry, Shepard.” The salarian doctor overrode the controls and the pod that contained the female krogan was lifted and delivered to the extraction shaft. “Will personally handle this krogan’s safety. Meet us on the landing zone.” He checked his weapon and entered the cab.

“Alright guys,” Sunday said to Garrus and EDI, “let’s go back to the LZ.”

“I hope that Cortez can handle the heat,” Garrus noted. “Sounds like we’re not gonna leave this place without a fight.”

“Standard procedure, then,” EDI quipped, making Sunday shake her head.

As they approached the elevator, her omni-tool flashed. “Shepard, it’s Cerberus!” Wreav bellowed. “Get the females outta there and---!”

“Only one made it. Professor Solus is taking her over there.”

Wreav went silent for a few seconds. Sunday could still hear the fighting going on around him. In that very short time, she thought she could see Wrex’s determination in this krogan’s look. “If this female dies, the turians will suffer it in the flesh.”

Sunday’s face clouded. “We’ll talk later,” she grunted as she heard the elevator’s doors opening. She cut off the communication and stepped into the elevator. “I need to figure out what to do with---”

“Shepard, look out!” EDI shouted as she pointed to the adhesive explosives on the back panel.

She only managed to turn around before the blast hit her with full force. Her head hit against the wall and her body just fell limp. Garrus and EDI turned her around. The visor had been smashed and there was a significant crack on her helmet. Her omni-tool was alternating between the blade function and a hacking screen that looked glitched. EDI disabled it while Garrus applied some medi-gel.

“Come on, wake up…” he muttered, looking for any sign of consciousness. Her shields seemed to have stopped working. “EDI, can you repair the malfunction?”

“I need to have access to the shield core. Scanning. One of the batteries has been depleted, and the other one is damaged.”

“Take one of mine, then, and fill up the good one.” He watched the salarians as they rerouted the power to the emergency door on the other side of the floor. Some of them tended to their own wounded; others just lay dead.

“That would be ineffective. Since my body can withstand light-to-moderate damage by firepower, I will attempt to recharge it using my energy supply.” She looked at Garrus. “I need you to turn her around. The core is at the back.”

The turian held Shepard’s body in his arms and gently but quickly exposed the battery module for EDI. She used her omni-tool to share some of her power, but suddenly she seemed to frown. “Hrm.”

“What’s wrong?”

“For starters, she needs Doctor Chakwas. Some of her implants don’t seem to be working properly. And the issue with the armor is hardware-related. Nothing I can solve without the right equipment.”

“Let me see; perhaps I can---”

“There is no time,” one of the salarians warned them. “There are universal suit power units on floor -1. Take her there and ask Officer Paxov to outfit you.” Garrus was about to reply, but he noticed that Sunday was stirring in his arms and he looked down, hopeful once again.

* * *

She opened her eyes and met Garrus’s gaze. The turian seemed relieved. _“Kratial lephirital, vefe valereph, Laxi.”_

Sunday frowned. “Come again?”

Garrus replied, _“Kefe ehnik vix ke…”_

Sunday sat up and moved away from him. “What did you say?”

She saw him exchange glances with the cyborg. _“Caid ifiariek cak ee,_ EDI _?”_

“You said EDI!” she shouted. “What’s my name? Say my name, Garrus!”

 _“Lafdey Lhipher,”_ he replied slowly. _"Lafdey… ta kegil ealcalte caod locaor?”_

“Oh fuck…” She sat there, rocking gently. She had no idea what Garrus was saying. He was probably speaking in his language, which meant that the translator wasn’t working anymore. She looked up at EDI, who seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion. “Tell Garrus---”

“He can understand you, Shepard. It is your cochlear cybernetic that it's not working. That’s not all. Your shields are intermittent and there’s not enough energy to power both the defense systems and the omni-tool. You’ll have to rely on us until we get to level -1.”

Sunday let the information sink in and she nodded, swallowing hard. “Alright. Alright… We can do this.” She stood up and breathed in and out deeply. “Cerberus is still out there. The krogan and Mordin will be out soon. You and Garrus will take rear point, and I’ll support you.”

One of the salarians ran towards them. _“Hlahissaxhi kyklassa kjexhta!”_

Sunday clenched her teeth and looked at EDI. “I assume we have to move.” She took out her pistol and was about to run to the newly open door when a strong grip stopped her. She turned and saw Garrus shaking his head.

 _“Lcio ke fof phollil… Led at pher hoc totak Lakekal, pharal?”_ There was a brief moment of hesitation, but he obviously didn’t have the time to hold back any longer. With unusual intimacy, his thumb stroked her cheek. _“Caie fof derelifcaek te, ivehl.”_

She had no idea what he had tried to say, but his eyes were steadfast as always, so she nodded silently and let him lead.

They moved quickly through the first level. A good number of salarian guards were obviously prepared to deal with whatever managed to come their way. Still, Sunday noted that the fact that a few Cerberus grunts had come this far meant that the upper levels were definitely compromised. She wondered if Mordin had made it all the way to the top. She constantly glanced in EDI’s direction, waiting for her omni-tool to flash. 

Sometimes the explosions around the facility seemed to be deafening. Some other times, in the crossfire, the shields would be up briefly and she’d feel protected once again. Even though she was aware that she could give any command and Garrus would understand her, not being able to communicate with him was hard for her. The turian always kept her close, and if she wanted to advance, he’d shout. The exact words didn’t matter, because his message was loud and clear. He shielded her from the yahg and varren stampede, even though neither species seemed interested in attacking them. They were only seeking a way to escape, just like them.

“We’re almost there, Shepard,” EDI said. “Wreav has just let us know that the female krogan and Professor Solus are safe and ready for extraction as soon as we get there.”

“Excellent. We’ll just have to keep pushing forward, then.” She’d never thought that hearing EDI’s voice would make her as happy as it did now. The salarians that pointed them in the right direction kept clicking their tongues and producing strange hissing sounds.

Kirrahe, however, was intercepted by Garrus before he could get to Sunday. He silently handed her a new weapon and pointed to the ammo – adhesive explosives, just like the ones that had been used in the elevator. She saw Garrus and EDI staring at the new acquisition.

“Indoctrination and infiltration?” she wondered out loud.

“It would appear so,” EDI replied.

Level -1 was the last stretch, and they found it teeming with troopers. Half of it had been blown up, and it was too difficult to figure out who was the officer in charge of requisitions: the corridors were littered with both Cerberus grunts and STG operatives. Sunday signaled EDI to move on to the next level, and she tried to ignore Garrus’s protests. He was obviously in favor of searching for the batteries they needed, but it only took a look around to see that if they stayed there longer than necessary, they would be outnumbered.

As soon as they emerged to the terrace, Sunday sighted the Kodiak. Wreav and Steve were keeping some Centurions busy, and the remaining STG operatives were protecting the extraction shuttles, now loaded with their wounded.

“Let’s go!” Sunday shouted, as she sprinted towards the LZ. She failed to see the turret that had just been armed. The impact landed on her right arm before she could remember that her shields were down. She found herself lying on her stomach, and she heard Garrus’s voice.

 _“Locaor votil at delcefdel!”_ the turian shouted as he kept her pinned down. She was still as clueless about what he was saying as before, but it was easy to see that Garrus was far from happy. She moved her arm – part of her armor was gone, but the bullets had just scraped her skin. Good. The wounds were merely superficial. She pointed it out to Garrus, but he only paid attention to her once he’d overloaded the turret and shot down the engineer responsible for it.

“It’s over,” EDI said. “Let’s run to the Kodiak while we can.” She took the lead and Sunday followed her, with Garrus at her back.

She waved at Steve but she noticed that he was pointing towards something behind them. Sunday turned around and saw something moving faster than anything she’d ever seen. Whatever that was, it couldn’t be human. The creature jumped in the air and raised what seemed to be a blade, aiming for Garrus. The turian turned in time to avoid the strike, but the enemy was too close and they were moving too fast for him to use his rifle.

Sunday ran towards them as she saw the glimmering reflection of the blade, ready to strike again. She stood in front of Garrus right before the blade came down. It went through her armor and came out, bright red, on the other side of Sunday’s right shoulder.

For a moment, the world stood still.

Sunday’s scream broke the silence. Still impaled, she grabbed her gun with her left hand and shot the creature right in the face. The blade retracted and she fell on her knees. She’d forgotten how warm bleeding felt. Another piece of her armor came off and the wound was exposed, crimson and deep.

She was tired, so tired. The floor looked inviting and cool.

Yes, it would be nice to take a break.

* * *

Garrus’s visor hovered over her. _“Caid vidilti, Laxi? At caid hæc fecitil!”_ His voice, usually a friendly purr, was now an accusatory hiss. Somehow she had made him mad. Slipping in and out, she heard EDI’s gentle voice and Mordin’s clicks. Wreav’s guttural voice annoyed her.

She looked to the side, and caught a glimpse of the female krogan watching her. _Smart woman,_ she thought. _Silence is golden._

And then she passed out again.

* * *

She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the ceiling of the med bay. Doctor Chakwas was smiling at her. “How are we feeling, Commander?”

“Been better…” she replied slowly. She sat up with a grunt. “Been worse too.” She looked at her bandaged shoulder. “Is it bad?”

“You lost some blood, but fortunately the wound was clean.” Chakwas showed her a hologram of her body. “Some of your implants got rattled. I had to fix them, scalpels and everything.”

“Well, at least it sounds like someone had a good time,” Sunday sneered. Chakwas coughed discreetly and she turned to look at Garrus, who was leaning on the window, watching her.

“I think I’ll be leaving you two alone,” the doctor said, walking out of the med bay suspiciously fast.

“Can you understand me now?” Garrus said, sounding vexed. Sunday nodded. Before she could say anything, he went on. “Look… Ever since I met you, you’ve been getting me into trouble. And yes, I remember I chose to be here. Joke’s on me, I guess. But even when we faced the unknown, we were aware of the risks, and I seem to recall that after Virmire, everybody who could hold their weight was expected to do so. And I _can_ hold my weight.” He looked away. “I’ve grown older since you died that time. That’s how I feel. Older. I wish I could feel wiser. I wish I could just say, ‘I don’t give a fuck about this.’ But I can’t. You got me into this, and I chose to stay because you made the right decisions. But sometimes…” He clenched his fist. “Sometimes you make me so mad, and everything feels wrong. You don’t act like the person you’re supposed to be.”

“Who am I supposed to be?”

“Commander Shepard. The hero of the Citadel. The hope of humanity. The savior of the galaxy.”

Sunday sighed. “I’m just me. I never asked---”

“You never asked for it, but you got it. That’s your lot in life. And you can’t just jump into the fire for a soldier the way you did on Sur’Kesh.” He glared at her. “You should have let me keep dodging it, and if it came to that, I’d have taken the blow. Our mission’s greater than one person. I’m not a fucking damsel in distress, Sunday. I’m expendable, you’re not.”

“That’s bullshit, Garrus. You’re not just another soldier, not to me,” she protested.

“Then what am I?” he demanded to know. “What am I to you?”

“I… You’re… You’re my friend,” she replied, visibly uncomfortable. “You’ll always be my friend.”

The turian snorted and looked away. “Of course.”

“Garrus…” she called. He raised his eyes and met hers. “I know what you want, but I can’t do it.”

“Why?” Demanding.  

“You are my friend,” she repeated.

“You’ve said that much.” Stubborn.

She frowned. “I don’t know. I mean… I know you, and the man you are, and what you want… I don’t know if I can give you that. Hell, I’m shit with words… But I don’t want to risk it. You said it to the Primarch yourself.” She saw him stand straight. “We don’t want to spoil what we have with sentimentalism, right?”

He looked down, and silence set in between them. Sunday stood up and took a few steps towards him, but he walked to the exit. Without turning around, he announced, “Once the genophage has been cured, I’ll go back to Palaven with Victus. The war, or whatever this slaughter is… It will soon be everywhere, and I want to do my part. I’ve spent too much on the Normandy. It’s time for me to move on.”

* * *

“I’ve just forwarded the vids to your personal terminal,” EDI said.

“Thank you.”

She took her datapad and reviewed the mission on Sur’Kesh. Through EDI’s eyes, she saw the explosives in the elevator, and Garrus holding her. _“Thank the spirits you’re alright, Sunny.”_ The relief in his voice was palpable. And a while later, just before leaving the floor… _“I know you can’t understand me, but… We’re going to get through this together, okay? I won’t leave you alone. Ever.”_ His touch hadn’t been lustful. That was pure affection. Sunday sighed. Shit, that was the last thing she wanted from him. And then, when they were flying back to the Normandy, she had felt his anger and his anguish. _“What were you thinking, Sunny? Why would you do that?”_

“Don’t ask me that, Garrus,” she murmured. “I wouldn’t know what to say.” She tossed the datapad aside and lay on her bed. Some things just couldn’t be rushed. She felt like she needed time to process what was going on between them.

But time was not something they had.

...


	5. Cut it out and then Restart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Mordin informed them that synthesizing the cure would probably take days, and since Sunday needed time to recover, they decided to split into two groups. Joker dropped her and Liara at the Citadel, and then the Normandy flew off to krogan space, where Garrus, Vega, and EDI would deal with a turian platoon that needed rescuing.

“I never thought the Shadow Broker would be my server,” Sunday teased the asari.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, Shepard,” Liara replied, leaving the tray on the table and sitting down next to her. “Speaking of which…”

“Uh-oh. That’s never good.” Shepard grabbed her ale and took a long swig. She hadn’t drunk that particular brand since that day, the last one she’d spent in that apartment. Somehow it seemed as if everything had happened long before, and at the same time it felt like only a few hours had passed since they’d left Earth.

“I thought we could use the downtime to talk about Garrus.”

“Weren’t we here to pull strings? We should visit Kaidan, by the way. I still haven’t seen him since we brought him in, not even once. Terrible, I know. And he keeps sending those emails---”

“Don’t change the subject. You know I can get the intel pretty quickly.” The asari watched her commander with amusement. “Perhaps you’d like to know what happened during the time that he was back home?”

“He already told me about it. His father got him a token force and---”

“---found him a partner?” Liara rested her cheek on her hand and smirked. “Or did he neglect to mention that part? Oh, don’t bother: from the look you’ve just given me, I can tell he didn’t tell you about it. But I suppose you expected it, didn’t you? He’s entering the prime of his life and it’s only natural for turians to start a family. When this is over, there will be a lot of rebuilding to do.” The asari had a few bites before she noticed that Sunday wasn’t eating. “I thought you liked casseroles. Are you feeling alright?”

“Just thinking…” She told her about Garrus’s words the last time that they had spoken. “Do you think that he’s agreed to… be with someone?”

“Turians are, above all, loyal. If you ask me, I’d say that he’s chosen you. But you know he has a temper, and if you don’t mind me saying this, so do you. You can be incredibly stubborn, Shepard. You’re being stubborn now, in fact.”

“How so?”

“It is obvious that you two are close friends. You share opinions, methods, thoughts... You’ve got a more meaningful relationship with him than with anybody else. I may not have known Jacob or Thane as much, but it is clear that Jacob’s death shocked you, and in a way, you’re still mourning Thane. Honestly, I don’t think you loved them the way you do Garrus. And knowing you, you probably feel guilty for moving on so quickly after their demise.” She rested her hand on Sunday’s wrist. “The truth is that we are running out of time. Nobody would blame you if you wanted to have a last go at being happy. Garrus deserves as much, don’t you think? You really don’t want him to spend the rest of his life with that VI of yours. The real thing would be so much better for both of you.”

“That VI? _My_ VI?” Sunday blinked. “He still has it?”

“Don’t ask.”

“When did you become such an expert in relationship matters, Liara?” Sunday sat back and watched the blue-eyed asari.

“Observation is key in my line of work, Shepard,” Liara replied with a smile. “Want me to tell you about all the other things I’ve found out?”

* * *

Garrus leaned against the window, arms folded across his chest. He was watching the krogan that stood on the other side of the table, and thinking that at times, he looked too similar to Wrex. The more you talked to him, however, the more you’d notice the differences. Whoever was left standing once the Reapers were defeated would have a hell of a job keeping that krogan in check.

He heard her steps approaching the conference room and stood straight. She was wearing her formal clothes, and he wondered if she’d been talking to the Council. 

“It wasn’t a Cerberus bomb, Shepard!” Wreav burst out, as soon as she reached the meeting point. “The birds had planted it there to have one more way of controlling us!” His red eyes squinted. “Even after the genophage they feared us!”

“Can’t blame them, can you? You would’ve done the same.”

“I demand---!”

“You’re in no position to make demands!” Sunday barked, standing right in front of him. She seemed to be ready to headbutt him, and Garrus wondered if she’d do it. “We’re already doing this for you, and you should be grateful that they managed to disarm that bomb at such a great cost.”

“It’s alright, Commander…” The Primarch’s voice sounded older and tired. “I do not wish to add more grief to this conflict.”

Sunday nodded. “Why did you message me, Wreav?”

“There’s a situation that needs to be solved rather urgently. Not in Tuchanka.” He cast a derisive look at the turians and then he looked back at her. “I’d rather we discussed it on our own.”

* * *

“The answer is simple: it can’t be true.” Sunday was monitoring the intel extracted from the listening post. “I saw the last queen die. I killed her myself. The Rachni are gone. Whatever’s going on here, it’s got to be Reaper-related.”

“Wreav seemed pretty sure…” Garrus started saying, but she interrupted him.

“Wreav is becoming a problem. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll put up with him. Were it not for you guys, I’d have thrown him out the airlock days ago.”

“Well, I’m sorry you’ve got to save our asses,” Garrus replied bitterly.

“Jeeze, aren’t you touchy lately?” she muttered, checking her equipment.

“Are you sure you want me here?” he questioned. “Because it’s starting to feel---”

“You’re the one who wants to walk away,” she scoffed, raising her eyebrows.

“And you know exactly why,” he snapped.

“I’m beginning to wonder how much I know. As I recall, you never mentioned a marriage agreement back on Palaven.”

“I’m uh… I think I’d better go help Steve…” James slipped to the front of the shuttle, where Cortez followed the argument quite avidly.

As soon as they landed, Garrus and Sunday stomped toward the krogan camp, still arguing, followed by a groaning Vega. The group of Aralakh warriors stood up when they saw them coming, and Garrus noticed that one of them went into a trailer, undoubtedly to announce their arrival to the leader of the company.

A huge head emerged and the bluest eye greeted them. “SUNNY!” Grunt bellowed as he ran towards the newcomers. He was about to hold Sunday’s hands when she headbutted him, making him recoil in surprise.

“Not in front of the company, Shepard!” he grumbled, rubbing his forehead.

“Why did you stop reporting?” she hissed. “Did it ever cross your mind that we’d be worried about you?”

Grunt blinked and looked at Garrus, who raised his arms and stepped back. “Uh-uh. _You_ fix your problems with her; I don’t want to be in deeper waters.”

“Deeper? Have you two been fighting?” Grunt asked, tilting his head and looking at Sunday inquisitively.

Sunday shook her head, smiling slightly. “No, _hak_ ; everything’s okay.”

Garrus patted the young krogan on the arm. “When Wreav told us that you were here and that you’d stopped sending messages, we just had to come. The galaxy might be at stake, but if Sunday’s little guy is in trouble, she won’t rest till he’s safe back home.”

“Heh, as if Tuchanka was safe,” Grunt chuckled.

“Actually, we were thinking about the Normandy,” Garrus replied warmly, looking at Shepard for support. She nodded.

“I know you’re commanding Aralakh, but we really could use your help out there.”

Grunt took a step back. “Wreav gave me this company because he thought I’d make a good leader.”

“Wreav gave you Aralakh to get you out of the way,” Sunday replied. “You’re pure krogan, and when this is over and you start getting your mating requests, who do you think the females are going to prefer? He’s not gathering followers out of love, trust me.”

“What Sunday means,” Garrus said gently, “is that we’d like to make sure that you return to the clan in one piece. You’re far more valuable safe and alive than heroic and dead, not only to us, but to the future of your race. With the genophage cured, there will be lots of ties to restore in your land.”

“I _am_ doing something here. I am stopping the Rachni.” Grunt shook his head. “I am fighting against the enemy. It’s in my blood, I can feel it. This is who I am. I am no clan leader. I am a soldier.”

“Well, now I know where you got your stubbornness from,” Garrus muttered.

Before Sunday could give him a death glare, Grunt sniffed at the man standing behind them. With mistrustful eyes that darted from the turian to the human, he asked, “Who’s that?”

James stepped forward. “Lieutenant James Vega. Currently, I’m part of the Normandy crew. I used to watch over Commander Shepard back on Earth.”

Grunt squinted once more and grumbled, “He smells funny.”

* * *

There had been no other way. As they were plummeting down the chasm along with the trailer, Garrus thought that he couldn’t have avoided it either. They fell on the rock-hard ground and rolled over to prevent injuries. Grunt yelled from above, his voice exuding concern. He was not as tough as he thought he was, Garrus mused as he stood up and looked around. Sunday was checking the shoulder pad of her armor – somehow, she’d managed to avoid landing on the injured shoulder.

As they entered the cave, Garrus was assaulted by the idea that whatever they were to find there, it would be worse than the queen on Noveria. It had to be. Whatever the Reapers had created –he shuddered at the thought of pieces and chunks stitched together in true Reaper-fashion– was waiting for them down there.

He noticed that she was not telling _him_ what to do; instead, she seemed to be focused on James. Garrus felt that perhaps their previous bickering had been too much, and she was so mad at him that she’d decided to ignore him. Whenever she used one of the flamethrowers picked up from the dead krogan, he was able to see her face: her lips were a thin line, pressed with determination. When she was attacked by a husk, she brought it down with her fists and finished it with her omni-tool blade. Garrus smirked at the idea that whenever she was near krogan, her behavior became more unpredictable and aggressive.

When they brought down the second line of defense, Garrus saw her and Vega rush forward and charge against the cannibals. He made sure that anything that moved near them would be scoped and shot before they could realize that there was something there. Once again she brought out her blade to shut down the power nodes. The static swirled around her, illuminating her face and her blue armor. Through the scope, her eyes met Garrus’s, making him feel bare and exposed. He swallowed hard and mentally kicked himself.

He blinked and she was gone. Crap.

He followed his companions along the dank paths. Vega had taken another flamethrower and he was helping Sunday incinerate the pods. Through the corner of the eye, Garrus noticed something leaping at the soldiers. He aimed and shot unerringly, so suddenly that Sunday turned around quickly to see what had happened. She crouched next to the dead crawler and ran her fingers over the remains.

“Don’t worry, I have your back,” he said, feeling his mouth dry.

“You’d better,” she muttered, giving him a piercing stare.

A soft shiver ran down Garrus’s spine.

Once they’d reunited with Grunt’s team and overridden the Reaper node, they ventured into the narrowest passage that they’d encountered so far. He watched her get down and crawl on her belly when the opening became too low, her hips swaying from side to side to wriggle her way into the wide cavern that was waiting for them.

And in that cavern, they found the beast.

The talking corpses of the krogan reminded him of the dead asari that the real queen had used at Peak 15. This monster in front of them, however, felt completely different. Grunt would say that it smelled wrong. The Reaper tech around it didn’t help much to persuade them to save her, and Sunday called a retreat.

But Aralakh Company had been pinned down by a swarm of ravagers, and without a way to get out of the sunken cavern, the Normandy crew could only hear the shouting of the krogan. Garrus got a glimpse of Sunday’s face, somber and concerned, until Grunt popped out of a side passage. The young krogan signaled them to move, and they climbed a rock formation till the ledge on which Grunt was standing.

“I told the others to run for the exit. It’s just me and Dagg here. You’ll have to nuke these creeps; there’s nothing else to do here!” Grunt shouted over his shoulder as he led them to the exit. They ran past the Reaper node and felt the cool air of the twilight zone of the cave. As they were getting to the main corridor, part of the ceiling caved in under the weight of dozens, perhaps hundreds of reaper-modified Rachni soldiers.

“Quick, move!” the young krogan shouted as he helped Sunday climb the final ledge. James climbed after her and reached out for Garrus, but before he could do the same, Grunt held him by the arm. “I’ll buy you some time,” he muttered, his eyes darting about. “Just... Take her away, far from here.”

“She won’t---” Garrus started protesting, but Grunt pushed him upwards.

“Move!” he blared, as he took his shotgun and ran towards Dagg, who looked as if he was about to get swarmed.

“No!” Sunday yelled, held back by James. “No! Let go of---Vega, it’s an order!”

“Sorry, Commander! Can’t hear you!” James shouted, dragging her away. Garrus held her by the waist and between the two of them, they managed to haul her out of the cave, in spite of her screaming and thrashing about.

“We can’t leave him!” Sunday shouted, looking at Garrus desperately. “We have to go back!”

“Again with this!” Garrus yelled back on the brink of exasperation as he pushed her into the Kodiak. “He’s doing this for you! We’re all doing this for you!”

“Fuck you!” she howled as she banged on the emergency switch. “Let me down! I _won’t_ leave him there!” She jumped off the shuttle and landed with a roll. She scrambled to her feet and ran towards the entrance of the cave, but before she could get there, she was tackled by Garrus.

“You bloody idiot!” he grunted as he wrestled with her. “You’ll never get it, will you? Grunt… Not just Grunt, we---!” He looked over her shoulder and saw two figures limping out of the cave. “Spirits… Look!” he gasped.

Sunday turned around and he heard her let out a sigh of relief.

* * *

They’d be taking Grunt and Dagg to Tuchanka, where they could get proper medical care; in the meantime, they would have to get a blood transfusion from Wreav and the uninjured ones in the company. The krogan warriors of Aralakh were more than willing to share their blood with their young leader, much to Wreav’s displeasure and Mordin’s amusement.

“You pull something like that again and I swear I’ll drop your sorry ass on Tuchanka; is that clear, Lieutenant?” Sunday admonished James.

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbled. As she was leaving, he shouted, “But I expect you to yell at the turian too, ma’am!”

“Oh, I’ll have a word with Garrus alright,” she muttered as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

She collapsed face down against her pillow, panting with exhaustion. She still felt sore from the exertions in the cave on Utukku, but the new pain that she was feeling was actually helping her relax. “That was good…” she murmured, a half smile appearing on her face. “That was _very_ good, in fact…”

Garrus lay on his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I think we’re getting better at this…” He leered at the curve of her lower back and wondered how something could be so soft and firm at the same time. “Though it won’t be a secret anymore if you keep making so much noise,” he purred cheekily.

“At least we won't have to have those stupid arguments to throw people off the scent. Although I think Liara knows...”

“If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be a good information broker.”

“I’ll try to be quieter next time.” She stretched and lay on her side, resting her head on her arm. “Though I’m sure you’ll find a way to keep my mouth busy…”

**. . .**

_Time and the odds didn’t seem to be in their favor, but that didn’t mean that there was nothing she could do about it. Sunday sat up and picked up the datapad once again. She stared at the screen for a couple of seconds and then opened the private browser._ This is crazy, _she thought, as she search the extranet for turian/human vids._

_It took her a couple of days to get round to it, not because she didn’t find Garrus attractive enough to have sex with him, but because she wanted to be sure that she would be doing it without getting attached to him. She just wouldn’t be able to do it if it meant something more than a stress reliever. As they were traveling towards the Citadel to drop her and Liara before he went to Tuchanka, she took a deep breath and sent him a message._

“Come to my cabin. There’s something we need to discuss.”

_She waited for a while, and when she finally got a reply, he’d written,_

“Later. Busy with Victus and calibrations.”

_To which she replied,_

“Wanker.”

_There was no reply for some time, and just when she thought that she should give up on her plan, he answered,_

“Be there in 5.”

_Shit, she hadn’t really thought it through. She looked at herself. No special outfit, no wine, nothing to set the mood. Would she even have time to take a shower? Was it too late to call it off? She looked at the time on the datapad, but for some reason it seemed to have frozen. She estimated that she’d be able to take a quick shower. She kicked off her boots and took off her shirt. She pulled down her pants and tossed the attire down the clothes chute. As she climbed the steps to the upper level of her cabin, Garrus came in, hissing. “Really, Shepard? Do you have to call me wa---?” He stopped when he saw her barely dressed before him._

_Well, shit. Garrus had gone quiet, and she hoped that the situation would still be salvageable. She stood tall and crossed her arms over her chest. “Here’s the thing,” she said casually, “I think we both need to blow off some steam. So… What I propose is: we fuck, no strings attached. Nobody needs to know about this. Outside my cabin, everything stays the same, the way we are. In here, we vent. Kinda like the turian way you told me about, right?” She rubbed her neck. He was staring at her blankly. She considered leaning against the wall, or maybe slowly taking off her underwear for him, but it hit her that she didn’t really know what he liked._

_Garrus sighed. “This is not what I---”_

_“I know,” she blurted out, “but it’s what I can offer. You don’t need to do it if you’re not convinced. No hard feelings, you know that.” She looked round the room: anything was better than looking at him in the eye. His expression seemed frozen and she wondered if she had scarred him. He probably wasn’t interested in naked humans. She breathed out and gave him a little smile. “It’s alright, Garrus. Never mind. I uh… I’m gonna take a shower. You know where the exit is.” She wanted to bolt into the bathroom, but instead she managed to stride casually past him and close the panel behind her._

_She’d been so stupid. She just wanted to bang her head against the cold metal walls. Outside, she heard the cabin door opening and closing a few seconds later. Her hand activated the shower and she let the water run down her back. Well, at least she’d tried, and if he was really going to leave and return to Palaven, perhaps that would be for the best._

_The panel behind her slid open and she looked up in surprise, but she didn’t turn around. Shivers ran up her body, making her heart beat faster than ever before. “Strange. I had no idea that humans took showers with their underwear still on.” His voice mocked her, but his hands ran down her arms slowly, tenderly. She didn’t know what to reply. “Shall I?” he asked with a purr, and she simply nodded. His fingers unclasped her bra and it fell to the floor, soon forgotten._

_She felt him moving closer to her, his musky smell intensifying as he got wet; rich earth and oxygen, something familiar and much needed. His talons ran up her stomach, circling her breasts, and she bit her lower lip to counter the desire that kept rising within her. She needed to stay in control, for as long as she could._

_“There’s a bird on your back,” Garrus commented on her tattoo, as his mouth traveled slowly down her neck onto her shoulder, softly licking the trail and finishing with a playful nibble._

_“There are two birds on my back,” she finally murmured hoarsely._

_“Not for long,” he said, holding her by the waist and turning her around. Their eyes met, and she thought that she’d never seen him so hard and yet so vulnerable. No armor, no clothes, no visor. The blue marks on his face seemed more intense under the water, making his light-blue eyes stand out more than ever. She could feel his soft breath on her skin, as their faces were close now. She caressed his cheek and found that he shivered under her touch. Without a word, she parted her lips and gave his mouth a long, slow lick that left him stunned._

_Before she could ask if there was something wrong, he pinned her against the wall, sliding one of her hands behind her head, and his tongue found its way into her mouth, exploring her sensually. Sunday closed her eyes and ran her hands down his strong chest up to his hips, drawing him even closer to her. She could feel him growing against her stomach and she pulled back from the kiss, gasping for air, drowning with need._

_“Just fuck me,” she groaned, staring into his eyes. She saw him smirk._

_“Is that an order, commander?” he murmured as his thumbs pulled down her panties._

_“No… Yes… Do whatever you want,” she managed to say. He was bending before her to roll down her underwear and his tongue was teasing her. “Just…”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Do it,” she growled in a low voice._

_He picked her up and pressed her against the wall. She quickly wrapped her legs around his hips. She was ready to receive him, and as he slid inside her, she breathed in sharply. Her fingertips dug into his back as he moved in and out of her, growing wider by the second until he filled her up. She felt herself pulsating around him. A moan escaped his lips and she kissed him to suppress her own moaning. His talons on her skin, his teeth on her shoulder; everything had her crying out for more, and he complied intensely._

_It wasn’t long till she came to her climax – a long, warm tremble that left her exhausted and sore, but utterly satisfied._

_And judging from the look in his eyes, so was he._

**. . .**

“It’s not like in the vids,” Sunday noted, sitting up and stretching. “You know… Male turians always finish with bucketloads of---”

“That’s just for show,” Garrus replied, watching her stand up and walk to the bathroom naked. “Visually appealing, I guess. To be honest, those of us who are not in that industry do that only for reproductive reasons. Otherwise, there’s no… Release,” he said, having finally found a word that he felt comfortable with. “We still have orgasms, albeit not as intense.”

“I kinda feel bad about that now, then,” Sunday replied, scratching her head. “If you’re not having a good time…”

“Oh, I’m having a great time,” he chuckled as he sat up. He enjoyed watching her get dressed. “Besides, humans are too sensitive for our pH levels, and I’d rather you didn’t have to visit Doctor Chakwas with a curious rash or something.”

“Next time we’re at the Citadel I can ask around, perhaps pick up some pills to take, if you want,” she said casually. She failed to notice the smile on his face.

“Hey, listen…” Garrus murmured as he put on his clothes. “What do you say if we finish that strangers’ date we started some time ago? Once we’re done with the krogan, I mean. With the genophage cured, we’ll have a hell of a reason to celebrate.” _Please say yes,_ he thought, as he waited for her to finish slipping into her shirt.

“You’re so sure we’ll get it done?” she asked over her shoulder.

“You’re not?”

“I don’t trust the Dalatrass,” Sunday said, putting on her boots. “I don’t trust Wreav either. If it weren’t for Grunt and Wrex…” She sighed and rested her hands on her knees.

He crouched before her, looking into her eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“You serious?” She snorted. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”

“Good to know. I trust you,” he said, patting her on the arm. “And I know we’ll get it done.”

...


	6. Dream Made Breath and Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

The moment Eve stepped into the ancient chamber, the males of Clans Urdnot and Jorgal quieted down. Sunday didn’t look up at the shaman; instead, her eyes wandered around the pit, assessing the strength of the rival clan. They reeked of Blood Pack, and their leader, Thurak, seemed every bit as dangerous as Wreav to her. She breathed in deeply and listened to the rallying words of the female, wondering if that would be enough to get them to cooperate for the upcoming mission. Whatever happened right after the genophage was cured was not something the Alliance would be interested in – at least not while the Reapers were around.

“Time to move, Sunny,” Grunt said, giving her a pat on the arm.

“We could have avoided this if you hadn’t brought the tank-b--- _Urdnot Grunt_ along,” Wreav grumbled, giving a nasty look at Grunt and the rest of Aralakh Company.

“Didn’t I tell you? I promised Okeer on his deathbed that I would bring his perfect soldier back to Tuchanka to see the beginning of a new era,” Sunday replied, walking to the convoys. She turned to the Urdnot leader and found him giving her an amused look.

“Commander, don’t shit me. You and I are the same: payback is probably your middle name, and you’ve got the looks of someone who cares next to nothing for others, so I doubt you’d make promises to a dying, deranged krogan.” He grabbed her by the arm. “I wouldn’t want to face you on the battlefield any time in the future, but do not underestimate me, Shepard. The beef is not with you.”

Sunday removed her arm from his grasp more gently than she’d thought she would. “I know. So, payback… I guess if you must go down that road, you could start having a talk with the salarians.”

“Interesting. Hah. Out of respect for your turian _interest,_ ” Wreav said mockingly, as he gave Garrus a leer, “I will consider your words.” He walked forth, giving instructions to his men.

Sunday watched him go, but it wasn’t long before she felt observed. As she turned around, she met Eve’s gaze. The shaman didn’t say a word, and followed the Urdnot leader.

* * *

 

Grunt hit the wall with his fist and most of the blocks came loose. “Crap, we’ll never make it on time! That female’s as good as dead without us! That lone Reaper will tear them apart as soon as they get there!”

“Calm down, _hak_ ,” Sunday said, signaling Garrus to scout ahead together with part of Aralakh. “Focus and tell me where we are. Did the tank have any imprints on this place?”

Grunt took a deep breath. “This is the entrance to the City of the Ancients. See those murals? They represent the _aydukronda_ , the chosen ones, like Eve.” His thick fingers touched the red painting on the wall. “Back when Tuchanka was a land of priests, warriors, and rituals far beyond the rite of passage…” He looked back at Sunday. “I don’t know why all these things are coming back to me, Sunny. I feel it in my blood, like when we fought that thresher maw. Rushing within, almost deafening. But I don’t like it.” He stepped back. “This is not good.”

A slight tremor caught their attention. “Some other piece of useful info in that head of yours, Grunt?” Sunday asked, readying her assault rifle. “Something that explains this little quake?”

“There’s a myth, about the mother of all thresher maws…” Grunt began to say, but then their omni-tools started flashing.

“You have to get out of there now, Commander,” Eve urged her. “Kalros has been awakened, and it won’t be long till she starts reacting to our presence in the sacred grounds!”

“Shepard, we dealt with a couple of ravagers,” Garrus’s voice said from behind. “Reaper presence confirmed. Your company’s itching to get some revenge for the scouts lost on Utukku, Grunt,” he smiled at the young krogan. “They’re asking for you to lead them once more here.”

Grunt gave Sunday an inquisitive look and Sunday nodded. “You show them how the Normandy people fight, Grunt. Go ahead and do some cleaning; we’ll handle the route back to the convoys.”

“Heh, you got it,” Grunt chuckled, winking.

“A giant thresher maw _and_ the Reapers, eh?” Garrus smirked. “I’m never bored when I’m with you.”

“A few well-placed shots will get you far with me, Vakarian,” Sunday murmured. “Especially if they go through the heads of whatever comes near Grunt.”

“You’ll be a formidable mother someday,” Garrus laughed as he watched her take point.

The waves of Reapers were easily controlled by the Aralakh youngsters, whose spirits soared with every kill. Grunt could swiftly go from giving tactical commands coolly to shouldering a brute off a comrade, and that was the kind of behavior that the krogan needed to see. All the meetings, all the pressure of the summit was something that the bulk of the krogan would not see or be impressed by. It was the bond of blood forged in the battlefield that they would consider, and Sunday’s bet was on Aralakh Company, made up of elite fighters from each of the influential clans. She wondered if Wreav really knew what he was doing when he had sent Grunt far from Tuchanka.

Not one man was lost on the race to the convoys, and every heart beat faster upon the sighting of the gigantic thresher maw that did away with Wreav’s main competitor, Jorgal Thurak. The krogan that belonged to that clan barely had time to mourn the fallen before the others starting clamoring for the maw’s head. Sunday shook her head. How quickly they lost sight of their duty…

“Shepard, the female has just had an idea.” Wreav sounded strangely in awe. “In order to get rid of that Reaper, we need to summon Kalros.”

“First we must get them out of there, Wreav.” Eve’s voice was firm. “Commander, I’ve sent your coordinates to the largest convoy we have in the area. All of you will fit in there. Once you’re safe, I’ll tell you my plan.”

* * *

“We’re going to take that Reaper head on?” Garrus sounded perplexed. “Somehow, it’s… not the craziest thing we’ve done, but going through relays suddenly seems much tamer.”

“Actually, not us: Kalros is,” Eve explained. “We only need to bring down the Maw Hammers to summon her.”

“I bet that Reaper’s going to put up a fight.” Grunt was standing a bit separated from the main group, his eyes never straying from the synthetic menace in the distance. “I’ll bring down the hammers. Shepard, how about dealing with that foul-smelling thing?”

“I can handle it,” Sunday said confidently. She was aware that all the krogan in Grunt’s company were watching her, probably wondering what kind of human would have the quads to tackle such a task without batting an eye. As she passed by Wreav, she smiled at him amicably, and saw him frown.

“Wait… I’ll do it,” the Urdnot leader blurted out. “There are two hammers. I’ll deal with one of them.”

“Are you sure?” Sunday asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What kind of leader would I be if I let you pyjaks do this?” he snorted.

“Very well,” Sunday nodded. “Then Eve will go with Mordin, and I’ll cover Grunt’s back. We’ll tackle the hammer on the right side. Garrus will go with you as support while you---”

“I won’t have a bird on my back,” Wreav shook his head. “You come with me, Shepard. The youngling can have your turian.” He saw Sunday press her lips, but when she didn’t protest, he smirked. However, he quickly changed his expression when he saw the wave of reaper-modified rachni coming their way. “It’s time to move, so let’s finish this and come back to celebrate the new era for the krogan!”

Even with the distraction provided by the turian air support, the Reaper seemed to be expecting a frontal attack. It stirred and made the ground shake, splitting the three parties sooner than they expected.

“Keep going!” Shepard shouted to Wreav, who was running ahead.

“Shepard!” Mordin’s voice sounded concerned. “Became separated from Eve! ---fraid she fell down with the rubb---!”

“Don’t you worry, Solus! I’ll find her---” Sunday barely had time to dodge the Reaper beam. She pressed her back against a resilient-looking pillar and took a deep breath. Her blood was rushing up and down her body, the familiar feel of adrenaline mingled with it. They were so close now… She scanned the positions of Grunt and Garrus; their trackers flashed blue and both seemed to be doing fine.

“Shepard! This way!” Wreav shouted as he rolled over a fallen column and turned left, disappearing behind the large boulders that flanked the maw hammer.

As she ran toward him, she was aware that time seemed to have slowed down – it was the moment of anticipation lingering before her eyes, that which she had been looking forward to since she’d started thinking about Tuchanka and its future.

In spite of the deafening sound of the Aralakh rain of ammo on the ravagers and the aggressive beam of the Reaper, she heard the sound of a shotgun, twice. That broke the spell, and time resumed its flow.

As she turned round the boulder, she saw Wreav gasping for breath, blood spilling profusely on the sacred grounds. Eve was standing next to him, her shotgun still smoking.

“What…” the krogan leader croaked.

Sunday signaled Eve to move away and she threw a grenade at the Reaper before she ran to the hammer. The Reaper’s evil eye locked on its targets and one of its claws came crushing down on Wreav’s body, pushing it down beneath the rubble and the sand of the cruel land of Tuchanka.

Soon, the earth shook before Kalros, and as Sunday and Eve ran for cover toward the Shroud, they shared a silent look.

**. . .**

_“Shepard, glad to see you still in one piece,” Mordin greeted her. “Would like to stay and chat, but synthesizing calls. In the meantime, suggest talking to Eve. Refreshing perspective on krogan culture.”_

_Eve got off the stretcher and stood before her, tall and proud. Her voice was low and filled with rich tones that showed great wisdom and tolerance as well as sorrow. It wasn’t long till Sunday found herself confiding in that strong female whose heart knew her pain better than any other woman._

_What had been growing in Sunday’s mind was something she only dared voice once Grunt had been secured. And so, after Garrus had told her that he trusted her, unwittingly giving her the courage to turn that ideal into flesh, Sunday marched into the med-bay. Her eyes went from the female shaman to the sleeping young krogan lying on the stretcher beside her, and she just knew that she’d have to get it done._

_“Commander,” Eve called. “Grunt had just finished telling me about the time you and a drell first acted as his krantt. We had heard the story, but I had no idea about Gatatog Uvenk and his threats. I’m not surprised, he was always an opportunist,” she chuckled bitterly. She gave Sunday a quiet look. “I am intrigued, however, by your attitude.”_

_“Why’s that?” Sunday asked, sitting on Doctor Chakwas’s desk._

_“You are a leader, and yet, you defected in favor of a krogan who had barely started his adult life. You trusted his judgment. You gave him room to decide his path, and supported him when he was clan-less.”_

_“He wasn’t exactly clan-less. The Normandy will always be his home, and her crew his clan,” Sunday stated. “Well, for as long as he’ll have it, that is. I assume that one day, once all this is over, he’ll want to live under the warm sun of Tuchanka.” She grabbed one of the datapads that Chakwas kept with information on her implants and took a look at it distractedly. “Besides, I’m sure that had Urdnot Wrex lived, he’d have been less reluctant to welcome a soldier like Grunt into your clan. He was slightly more reasonable than Wreav…”_

_Eve chuckled. “That’s right. I’ve also heard about Wrex’s end.” Her warm brown eyes landed on Sunday. “Sad that it came to that. He would have done great things for our clan. He never came off as a tyrant, unlike his brood brother.”_

_Sunday cocked her head and smiled. “Tell me, Eve of the Unknown Name, female shaman of Clan Urdnot: what would you do if we were to tell the rest of the krogan that the salvation of their race rested on your good judgment, as well as on the shoulders of that young warrior over there?”_

_Eve assessed her for a full minute, but finally she said, “What do you suggest, Commander?”_

**. . .**

“Ah, there you are!” Mordin exclaimed, relieved. “Feeling fine? Told you you should have stayed behind with Aralakh!”

“Everything went better than we expected,” Eve said calmly, a smile in her eyes. “Are you sure you can deal with whatever the STG left up there?”

“Been STG myself,” Mordin replied, sounding slightly offended. “Of course I can.” He looked up at the tower and then back at Sunday and Eve. “Not comfortable with the idea of that brute Urdnot Wreav holding the power given by the cure in his hands, but---”

“Don’t worry about that, Doctor,” Eve reassured him. “You’re leaving it in mine.” She held Mordin’s hands in hers and pressed them warmly. “You have given us hope when we had little left. Know that we have no grudges, and no regrets.”

Mordin’s thin lips seemed to tremble a little. “It’s been my pleasure,” he blurted out, shaking Eve’s hands clumsily. He looked at Sunday and saluted her. “Commander, off to carry out my duty.”

“It's your responsibility,” Sunday said, patting him on the arm. He nodded.

“Yes. My responsibility.”

“See you on the way down. You’ll come back a hero, Solus.”

Her own words played over and over again as they saw the Shroud crumbling down, as the falling embers of the cure softly landed over them all, and even though she knew that Mordin had no chance of coming back safely, she smiled and only thought of Wrex.

* * *

“Let me get this straight, Commander... The female shaman of Clan Urdnot will work together with your former soldier, Urdnot Grunt, and he’s got something called Aralakh Company to back him up,” Admiral Hackett said.

“Yes, sir.”

“And Urdnot Wreav _disappeared._ ”

“Yes, sir. The former leader of Clan Urdnot sacrificed his life to make sure that the Reaper was brought down and the cure for the genophage was delivered.”

“And the main rival clan… Whathisname… Jorgal – their leader’s also dead.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Aria has given us permission to use the Blood Pack as you see fit, basically handing you the main krogan mercenary force in the galaxy.”

“It’s a stretch, but yes, sir.”

Hackett chuckled. “Commander, I’d be a fool to attribute this to your luck. For the moment I’m not interested in details, but you must promise to tell me all about this treaty you brokered once this Reaper business is over.”

Sunday smirked. “Yes, sir…”

* * *

One day off, that was all they would get. One day to rest, drink, have fun – whatever they wanted. Nobody had tried to lobby for the whole weekend, which was rather telling, at least for Sunday. She grabbed a large bag that Jack had bought for her the last time that they’d been at the Citadel, and parted ways with her comrades. She had four hours before her meeting with Garrus, and she had planned to get some new clothes for herself and drop by the Spectre office to have a talk with Kaidan; after all, she hadn’t seen him since they’d dropped him off at Huerta Memorial, and she felt guilty for not replying to his messages.

Instead, she found herself getting a cab to the C-Sec recruitment wing. She stood there for a while before she noticed the young drell that was waving at her.

“Commander Shepard,” Kolyat greeted her with a smile. “Are you here to see me?”

* * *

“Father would have been proud of you,” the drell said, finishing his drink. “You have done a good thing for the universe.”

“Have I? We’ll see if you keep that good opinion of me when things spiral out of control after the Reaper threat has been eliminated,” Sunday smiled, leaning back in her chair.

“That will be just another battle,” Kolyat replied. “When this war has become a bad dream, the galaxy will find a way to resume its natural rhythm. Maybe we’ll be there, maybe we won’t. We’ll just have to make sure to give it our all, won’t we?”

“Right…” Sunday watched the young drell and felt almost proud of how far he seemed to have come. She still regretted not sending Thane away earlier so that he could spend more time with his son, even though Kolyat himself had asked her to have no regrets. “Although talk of the war seems almost unreal here...”

“True. Here, it is an illusion,” Kolyat said quietly. “But every day I talk to different refugees down at the holding bay. I have seen Garrus Vakarian there, so I'm sure he can tell you about it. Focus your eyes and you’ll see that the lights are brighter to compensate for the gloom of the soldiers that come looking for respite. Keep your ears open and you’ll hear the concerned words of families that have become separated by war or death: turians, batarians, humans…” He looked down at the glass between his hands. “Recently we have received a great number of hanar refugees as well…”

“No drell?” she asked, starting to feel the weight of her decision to save Jondam Bau instead of stopping the indoctrinated hanar on time.

“Not in significant numbers,” Kolyat said, but then he went quiet.

Did he know that it had been her choice that had doomed both races? Sunday shifted on her seat, wondering how she’d forgotten that the drell would have a harder time surviving than the hanar, since their numbers had been drastically reduced after they’d been taken to Kahje. It was hard to not regret the actions taken. It had seemed the right thing at the time, but perhaps…

“How would you like to join us on the Normandy, Kolyat?” she asked. She was holding a bottle of water in her hands and she was aware that she was putting too much pressure on it.

Kolyat smiled. “Why? I have no remarkable skills. I am not an assassin like my father. I am neither warrior nor scientist.” He gazed at her. “Do you think I would be safer with you?”

“The Normandy is a safe place, yes.”

“I appreciate the offer,” the drell said as he stood up, “but I could do much more here. I can help.” He extended his hand and Sunday placed hers in his. “I believe in you, Commander. Never doubt it.”

“Thank you, Kolyat.”

“You appear to be happier than the last time we saw each other,” he said. “Whatever you are doing, keep doing it. It is not in the choice of a weapon that survival lies, but in the hands of those we trust.”

* * *

She slipped into a skin-tight dress and sat down to zip up her high-heeled ankle boots. She wasn’t going to dance anyway. She looked at the time. Better hail a cab soon. As she was going out, she realized that she was missing the wig she’d bought to avoid being recognized, a neat bob style that was almost too girly for her. She snorted as she looked at herself in the mirror. She vacuum-packed her clothes into the bag and headed for the Dark Star Lounge.

* * *

Garrus arrived at the lounge in time to see that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. It was maddening to see how little the problems of the galaxy affected the people in that place. And yet, to the well-trained eye, it was easy to see that the alcohol flowed in greater quantities, or that the people on the dance floor performed more enthusiastically than it was believable.

As his eyes wandered around the place, he noticed a slim figure sitting at the bar, alone. A tight dress hugged her hips but left her back uncovered. He knew that skin, that bird on the shoulder blade, and as he approached her, he felt a wave of warmth rushing through his body. How slim, how little she looked from a distance. He could barely believe that it was that woman that was carrying the fate of the galaxy on her shoulders. He was about to be overcome by the urge to get her out of that bar and feed her properly when he noticed the wig.

Huh. So she _was_ into roleplaying after all…

“You are the most attractive woman in this place,” he purred in her ear.

“Thank you,” she replied, but then she went silent.

“Garrus Vakarian,” he said, extending his hand. “Right hand of Commander Shepard, the most extraordinary woman in the galaxy. Pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

“Myria D’riadri,” she replied.

“Oh? Asari?”

She leaned forward and murmured, “Whatever you want me to be…”

Garrus swallowed hard. “Maybe we should slow down a little.”

“I thought this was what you wanted?” Sunday raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, but the point is that we flirt a little before we get a cab to my room. Now you’re just making me want to skip all the parts in between.”

Sunday laughed. “Very well, Garrus. What did you have in mind?”

"For starters, you can give me your real name..."

"Nah, you blew it when you said you worked for me."

No, he had been wrong. She couldn't do the roleplay thing. He'd just have to try another angle. He bowed and offered his hand. “Shall we dance?”

“Are you sure? What’s the point of me being incognito, then?” Sunday protested as she let him lead her to the dance floor. “As soon as I start dancing, people will recognize me. There was even a featurette about---”

“Just relax,” he whispered in her ear. “If they look at you, it’s because of the way you look tonight.” He held her by the waist. "I really meant it. You look ravishing." The beat was unusually slow, but it suited them better. He smiled when she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Garrus started swaying gently, noticing that Sunday was following him without putting up a fight. That was… unlike her. When he started humming the song, she rested her head on his shoulder. For all they knew, they could have been alone.

Garrus was torn: he wanted to either close his eyes to get lost in the feeling of her warmth and her heartbeat against his chest, or keep them open so as not to miss a single detail. True, their relationship hadn’t started the way he’d envisioned it. But she was there now, with him. But although she was outspoken and brash, she’d kept quiet about her expectations for them. He felt that he knew her better than anyone else, and still, he had no idea what she---

He felt her trembling. For a split second he thought that she was not used to wearing high heels and she was merely suffering from a lack of balance, but then he noticed that she’d buried her face in his chest.

“Sunny?” he called gently.

“Can we please leave?” she murmured.

On the ride to the room he’d rented for the night, she remained silent, looking out of the window but never letting go of his hands. She walked by his side along the empty corridor and waited until he opened the door. Before he could turn on the lights, however, she pressed his arm.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. The dim lights coming from outside didn’t give him a clear view of her face, but he could tell that something had happened. “Darling, what is it?”

She pressed her lips against his in a kiss that felt desperate. He pulled her toward him and kissed her deeply, tasting her like he always did. It always felt like the first time – it was hot and dizzying, and he knew that it would always be so. No matter how many years passed by, that moment would always be spellbinding.

As if she were reading his mind, she pulled apart. He watched her intently. “I… want you,” she murmured. “I really want you.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” he tried to say jovially, “because I’m here for you. All of me.”

She licked his mouth and he didn’t make her wait – their tongues danced around each other, savoring, melting. His fingers pulled down the zip of her dress and in the blue light coming from the balcony, he watched her naked body, feeling the same desire that she was showing.

She lay on her back and beckoned, inviting him to join her. Instead, he parted her legs and knelt before her. He could see the mix of fear and anticipation in her eyes; he could feel it in her irregular breathing. His talons toyed with her nipples as he buried his face between her legs, drinking her in with long, slow laps. He was rewarded with the sinuous movement of her hips pressing against his face, and her moaning was music to his ears.

She took one of his fingers between her lips and started sucking on it. Garrus knew that she was trying not to scream, that she wanted to delay her orgasm, but the sensation of her tongue flicking on his fingertips coursed through his body straight to his hips.

“I need you…” she moaned. “Please…”

Garrus didn’t need further stimulation. He groaned as he pulled away from her and so did she. Never had clothes felt more hindering, and he was gleeful when he managed to take them off. As he slid into her, he looked for her mouth hungrily. He felt her hands running over him, setting his skin on fire. She cupped his face and tried to look into his eyes, but it was clear to see that she was reaching her climax and it was hard for her to focus.

“Garrus, I… I…” Pain? Pleasure? What was going through her head? 

Could that be...?

“I love you too,” he blurted out. _Damn,_ had he said that? At _that_ moment? She was going to push him off. Spirits, she was going to kill him if---

He felt her hands sliding down his back, digging into it, and when he looked at her, she was smiling. He saw her bite her lower lip as a long whimper escaped her throat. He bit her neck as he felt his own climax coming, “a real one,” she would probably say later. It was worth it, if only for the sake of that smile.

* * *

The bright lights announcing the morning woke her up. Sunday felt Garrus’s soft snoring behind her and smiled. They’d never spent the night together in bed. They had spent many nights talking and drinking, but that was new. _“I love you too,”_ he’d said. Even though that was not her intention, she couldn’t deny it. Liara had been right when she’d tried to force her to admit her feelings. Why was it so hard for her to say it, then? She could do it now that he was asleep.

The sound of an alarm took her out of her reverie. She felt Garrus’s body tighten and he immediately sat up.

“What the hell…” he muttered.

She jumped out of the bed and searched for her omni-tool. “Joker? Where are you?”

“Commander, I was just going to hit you up! Heavy Cerberus presence. They’ve hit Zakera pretty hard!”

“Take the Normandy away, with the crew you have on board - right now!”

“But you---”

“Don’t worry about me; I’m with Garrus. I’ll raise Bailey and get some equipment from C-Sec. Just go!”

She turned around and found Garrus fully dressed, already unpacking her clothes. “Let’s hope we can make it to C-Sec before Cerberus,” he said in a low voice.

Kolyat’s face appeared before her. She nodded. “Let’s get moving, then.”

...


	7. Look at your young men fighting

“Can’t get through to C-Sec, damn it.” Garrus kept trying as he flew the aircab that he had taken from the evacuated terminal. “None of my contacts are responding, not even through the secondary channels…”

“Shit!” Sunday struggled with her omni-tool. Jondam Bau had suggested she change the one she used to have for the latest model and it still wasn’t fully calibrated. She bit her lower lip and let out a frustrated sigh. “Can’t we get there faster?”

“This isn’t the Kodiak. Don’t worry; we’ll be there in no time.”

“We have one pistol each, and no armor, which means no shields – how am I _not_ supposed to worry?” Sunday barked. “Do you have any idea how many agents Cerberus must have deployed? Back on Mars, they…” She stared at the device. At least it had a decent blade, but would it be enough against those assassins…? The memory of that freak going through her shoulder made her shudder. “Promise me you won’t leave yourself open again!” she shouted at Garrus.

The turian squinted. “Idiot,” he muttered.

Before Sunday could reply, her omni-tool flashed white. “Joker, what’s the---”

“Incoming transmission through your private channel!” the pilot announced.

“Commander Shepard, Cerberus has taken over C-Sec,” Kolyat said quickly. “I’m with Commander Bailey, at the HQ docks entrance. So far we’ve managed to counteract their hacking attempts, but it won’t be long till---” A loud hiss filled the channel, and the sound of a nearby explosion was dulled by the interference.

“Told you to stay down, kid! Shepard, this is Bailey!” He sounded as if he was still in control of himself. “These docks are swarmed, but the rest of the place’s a mess. I’ve lost contact with my boys… Unfortunately, this is the only way in. At least we’ve managed to activate the external turrets. I’m sending you the FF code so that you won’t get targeted at the LZ.”

“You’re so sure we’re gonna make it there?” Sunday asked in disbelief. “It’s just me and Garrus!”

“Damn, I’ll believe anything from you. Besides, I’ve got a young man here who’s certain you’ll come to save the day.” Bailey input the code and forwarded it to Sunday’s terminal. “Make sure to set that to your vehicle as well. I gotta take the kid away from here. Meet you in a while.”

“How far?” she asked Garrus, entering the code in the cab system.

“40 seconds.”

“We’ll be coming in hot.”

“I know.” Garrus hesitated briefly. “Just don’t be reckless, okay? I know Kolyat’s down there, but---”

“I’ll keep it together. Stay away from the bladed freaks.”

“You’ve already said so.”

“Just trying to get through that thick skull of yours.”

“There are always generators lying around. As soon as we land, I’ll get one of those working. You can plan whatever crazy move once you’re behind some protection. You’re no krogan. Don’t go berserk.”

Sunday muttered something, but Garrus was focused on landing without being shot down.

The image before them made them hold their breath. Humans and turians practically massacred at the docks; only three clusters here and there, holding on. What were they waiting for? Reinforcements that would never arrive? There was squad of Cerberus soldiers closing in on them, determined to finish the remnants of C-Sec. Sunday took cover behind some crates and saw Garrus approaching one of the teams. _Don’t go berserk,_ he’d said. As if she was that stupid. She’d learned the lesson on Sur’Kesh: she’d never again fight without her armor on. She didn’t want to see Garrus’s worried look again.

“Stay down,” she said to one of the wounded officers.

“Take this,” the man winced as he handed her his assault rifle.

“Oh, _now_ we’re talking,” Sunday murmured to herself, as a smile appeared on her lips.

* * *

It was the first time that Bailey had seen that look on her face. She seemed to be analyzing the information, but there was obviously a missing piece – at least that was what her scowl hinted at. He thought it was strange that she would remain silent on something that potentially involved Udina. He knew that there was no love lost between Shepard and the human Councilor; she’d never spared colorful expressions when talking to and about him, so why did it look like she didn’t believe he’d had a hand in the attack?

While she and Vakarian suited up and Kolyat helped tend to the wounded, Bailey set up a different channel. “Switch to A900CD35,” he said to the officers. “You too, Normandy. Now listen, those who can still fight…” Bailey looked at the turians; they had fared better than their human counterparts. He sighed. “Stay here. Shepard and Vakarian didn’t save you guys so that more Cerberus dicks would come to finish you all.” But the complaints he was expecting never came – they were obviously still shaken up. A human attack on the Citadel was not something they could have foreseen, and those officers were more administrative clerks than seasoned soldiers. “I’ll go ahead with the Normandy people.”

“You sure?” Sunday asked, scanning the floor via omni-tool.

“Bailey, I know this part of the ward like the back of my hand,” Garrus claimed. “We’ll have no trouble moving around if you want to stay.”

“No offense, but this is my station,” Bailey replied. “Besides, if Udina is behind all this…” He nodded in the direction of his officers. “I’ll have to have a word with the esteemed councilor.” 

“I’m coming too,” Kolyat blurted out.

“It’s safer if you remain---” Sunday started saying, but Kolyat grabbed two pistols from the pile and gave her an adamant look. She grunted. “Look, you said it yourself. You’re no warrior or assassin. I won’t---”

“I can be inconspicuous if I want to,” the drell stated calmly. “I’m also faster than your omni-tools when it comes to bypassing doors, and it’s likely that at some point we’ll have to go through the keeper tunnels if we want to get to the other side without being seen. I happen to know my way around them.”

“What do you think, Bailey?”

“Well... He’s right about the tunnels, and he's not bad,” the commander answered. He gave the young drell a stern look. “Just don’t go out there hoping to play the hero, alright?”

“Understood,” Kolyat smiled.

Sunday and Garrus took point as they went from room to room, from floor to floor. They were the ones to face the brunt of the attack whenever they came across the scattered Cerberus teams, and they were also the first to see the slaughter that had taken place; wounds with entry points that could only have been made by people that the dead had probably trusted.

“Death by betrayal,” Bailey sighed. “I should have been more vigilant, more careful… Now look at what’s happened here...”

“You did what you could,” Sunday interrupted him. “One person alone couldn’t have prevented this.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” he replied, restocking his supply of thermal clips. “But it’s shit. The whole system’s shit.” He let out a bitter laugh. “And to think that for this I left my family back on Earth. Just so that I could do, what? Cater to politicians who fail the people they represent on a daily basis?”

“Start thinking that way and you’ll lose yourself in the corrupt system you want to change.” Garrus’s voice sounded unusually cold. “The best remedy for that is a bullet between the eyes and no second chances.”

“Commander, may I talk to you?” Kolyat’s voice was low, much like a younger version of his father’s. He showed Sunday some readings he’d got from the floor right below the Executor’s office. “As you can see, there are a number of readings. Alive but still, probably waiting to ambush us. But I’m sure there’s someone there – cloaked, of course. I’ve widen the spectrum and modified the parameters to suit our target and well…”

“Salarian. That must be Esheel. And the ones waiting… Forward that to Garrus. Good job, Th---” Sunday bit her tongue. “Thanks. Let’s move, people!”

* * *

“Councilor?” Sunday called out. “Esheel, this is Shepard!” She looked back at Kolyat, who checked his omni-tool once more and nodded. “We’ve cleared the area – you can come out safely.”

An office chair slowly rolled away from a communal desk and the figure of the salarian councilor materialized before them. “I should have contacted you before, Commander,” she said, visibly shaken. “But I was afraid that… I don’t know who we can trust anymore. This massacre is the result of a failed coup; as long as the three of us are alive, we can do something about Udina.” She took a deep breath and looked around quickly. “I tried talking to Irissa and Quentius, but with Palaven’s situation and whatever’s happening on Lesuss, I had to have some STG agents look into Udina’s accounts.” Her thin lips quivered as she tried once more to regain her composure.

“Why didn’t you come to C-Sec, Councilor?” Bailey barked. “It’s our job, dammit!”

Esheel turned to him. “Because _he_ is working with Cerberus! How could I ask a human to investigate---!”

“Because it’s _our_ job!” Bailey roared. “You have no idea how many people we have lost today, and not just humans, if you think that I only care---!” He stopped and stared at the councilor. “It’s not about the ‘humans’, is it… This is about me…”

“What are you saying?” Sunday asked him. Neither Bailey nor the councilor spoke. They stared at each other. “What does he mean, Esheel?”

“Do you know how Bailey got his current post, Shepard? Did he tell you that it was Udina himself who promoted him?”

“Yes, I seem to remember…” What had Bailey said? That he’d killed someone… The previous Executor, Pallin. What were the circumstances? She’d never bothered to ask. She turned to Bailey. He looked tired, but it was more than that. She wondered if she should take a chance. He’d always helped her so far, even beyond his duty. Trust. She wanted to trust, but it always felt like flipping a coin. The odds were too high. A rush of adrenaline flooded her, just like every time she had to make a decision. Virmire. The Collectors’ base. And now… “We need to find Udina. There’s no other choice. This'll have to wait.”

“And you’re going to let _him_ walk away?” Esheel asked, a note of incredulity in her voice.

“You’ll have to trust me, councilor,” Sunday replied. “I promise I’ll---”

“Shepard, behind the councilor!” Kolyat shouted.

Sunday managed to see a dark figure standing close enough to strike. She pulled Esheel by the arm, out of the way, and reinforced her armor just in time to receive the impact of a blaster, which sent her reeling against one of the tables. “You little fuck…” she muttered, purging her armor and charging against the man. Garrus’s concussive shot took her by surprise – not because he’d acted on his own, but because the target had vanished.

The turian was taken aback. “No impact, but where---?”

“Nine o’clock, coming in fast!” Kolyat shouted, checking on his scanner.

Sunday rolled just in time to avoid the phantom. Before she could attack, he’d disappeared again. “Kolyat, can you see him?” she grunted.

The young drell seemed to be containing his breath as the scanning progressed. Was that man gone for good? He doubted it. There was a reading, but it appeared to be too weak to be the right one. Was he using a decoy? Kolyat was aware that Bailey had moved Esheel to a safe position, so it was unlikely that the assassin had come after them. If he went for his target now, he’d have to make his retreat through Shepard and the turian, and there was one thing that was evident to Kolyat: that man did not intend to make this a suicide mission. His survival was obviously more important to him than his target; otherwise, he’d have finished them from a distance.

A scream came from above as the man produced a blade and aimed at Sunday. She deflected his attack with her omni-tool blade, but it was clear that she would be no match for him in the long run. All she could do was move to a clear position so that Garrus could take a shot, something that the turian had understood even without speaking to her. But once again the man was gone.

“Come out here!” Sunday shouted.

“I can track his monomolecular blade!” the drell exclaimed. Yes, if he could do that, he’d have a better chance at finding---

Kolyat felt the sting of the blade going through him from the back, and the voice of the man like a dark whisper in his ear.

“You were annoying me.”

* * *

Garrus remained silent as he drove toward the seat of the Council. Every now and then he cast a glance at Sunday and Bailey, and the anger and pain would hit him in waves that sadly, he was able to recognize. It was like that time back on Omega, when he’d lost everyone to Sidonis’s betrayal. He understood. What had always pained him the most had been the thought that they’d died because he’d made a bad call. He knew that inside Bailey’s head, there was the anger of a father that wished he had been firmer against his son’s wishes. And he could feel Sunday’s pain; having lost Thane had been a huge blow, and if Kolyat were to die now…

“I’m sure the doctors will---” he started to say, but he saw Sunday’s fingers twitching. Pain, there was so much pain in that gesture. He reached out and placed his hand on hers.

**. . .**

_“We can restock our medigel once we’re there, but this should be enough to keep the pressure of the blood stabilized, at least till he’s taken to Huerta Memorial,” Bailey said, his voice trembling slightly. “My men from C-Sec are coming for him. It’s a good thing we were able to clear out this area.”_

_Sunday was looking at Esheel, who was holding Kolyat’s hand._ Fuck the Council. Fuck Cerberus. Fuck Udina. _Was that how it was going to be? Wasting their time fighting terrorists when there were Reapers at the door? A coup, a civil war – stupid, all of them._ See the bigger picture. See the fucking big picture. _How could anyone afford to act like this, without regard for those who only wanted to survive? There was no control over anything anymore. She wouldn’t be caught in that vortex. She would make them see, even if she had to beat them senseless._

_“We’re going after him. If the Council gets saved in the process, good,” she said. She stared at Esheel once more and she saw the dalatrass nod. “I’m glad we understand each other, councilor,” she muttered. She turned to Garrus and followed him to their transport._

**. . .**

“I won’t lose him,” Sunday murmured. “I can’t lose him now.”

* * *

“I can override the control, but you’ll have to cover me!” Bailey shouted as they climbed atop the elevator. “Aim for the auxiliary power supply!”

“You got it!” Sunday grabbed her shotgun and stood at the edge, feeling the rush of the rapid ascent. She knew that there would be no time to hesitate. Through the corner of her eye, she saw her omni-tool flashing.

“Commander, I cannot raise Irissa or Quentius,” Esheel said. “The C-Sec Tech team is working on it, but there appears to be local scrambling. Udina must have a jamming device on him.”

“Understood,” Sunday said.

“The boy’s been taken in for surgery. I cleared the processing and he’s been admitted as a priority patient.” There was a moment of silence and then she went on, “It was the least I could do.”

“Shepard, here they come!” Bailey shouted.

“Garrus, you take care of the power supply. I’ll deal with the passengers.”

Her heart beating a little faster, Sunday brought one knee down and aimed at the elevator. She timed each shot, knowing that they were running on limited time and resources. Every second counted, and she was no good at waiting, but this time she had to pull herself together. She could worry about other things later. She took a deep breath and pulled the trigger, bracing for the impact of every shot. She couldn’t say why she found herself thinking about Wrex once more. Perhaps it was because that weapon had been the one of his choice, but when the time had come to butt heads with her over Saren’s cure, he hadn’t pulled out his shotgun.

Virmire had been wrong.

Sunday was barely aware of Garrus’s shots. There was no need to tell him when to act - she trusted him that much. Bailey finished working on his omni-tool and took care of the elevator coming up on the other side. She trusted him as well. There was no room for second-guessing, even if the decisions were wrong, because nobody else could make them - nobody else would. When she had saved Jondam Bau, she had doomed the hanar and the…

The drell. The refugees. There had to be some at the holding bay. If Kolyat needed blood, then there was a chance he could get it. She let down her guard for a second, enough time to contact Esheel. “Check for drell refugees!” she shouted at the councilor, who didn’t even have time to reply.

“We’ll have to jump, Shepard!” Bailey and Garrus were standing by her side. She nodded and waited for the right moment. Her heart was alive and beating inside her chest so fast that she thought that it would escape her any minute now. She jumped ahead and landed on the roof of the elevator.

“They’re on us!” A familiar voice, and then some shots. Sunday staggered back, and she would have fallen off if Garrus hadn’t grabbed her by the arm. “We’ve got to get out of here fast!”

“Kaidan…” she muttered, trying to find her balance as the elevator came to a sudden stop. “Kaidan!” She kicked the upper latch and slipped down, running after the familiar figure of her former lieutenant.

“Shepard?” Kaidan watched her incredulously. “What are you doing? What’s the meaning of this?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Udina shouted. “She’s with Cerberus! She never truly left them! And she’s with her accomplice, Bailey!”   

“Udina, you son of a bitch!” Bailey roared, pointing his gun at the human councilor as he moved forward.

“Stand down!” Kaidan commanded, not setting his gun aside. “One more step and I’ll shoot you!” His whiskey-colored eyes landed on Sunday. “Help me understand, Shepard, because things are looking a little shady now.”

Sunday shared a look with Garrus and saw him shaking his head discreetly. She turned to Kaidan and raised her gun, “There is no way I’m gonna discuss this with you if you don’t lower that gun.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Kaidan muttered.

“Kaidan, stand down,” Garrus said. “Please.”

Kaidan’s eyes went from the turian to his former commander. “Why’d you come after us, Shepard? You practically corralled us here, a point of no escape. You come with your guns and your _people,_ ” he practically spat out the word, “and you expect me to believe that you seek no conflict?”

“Talk to Esheel!” Sunday shouted at Irissa. “She knows what’s going on with Udina. He’s the one allied with Cerberus!”

Quentius took a step forward. “We can’t get through to the councilor at the moment.”

“Kaidan, check Udina,” Sunday told him. “The interference has to come from him.”

“You’re delusional,” Udina grunted. “Esheel toyed with you. The salarians are mad at us humans because of what you did on Tuchanka!” he screamed. “Alenko, she’s not the same Shepard that fought with you on Virmire. Didn’t she destroy the cure back then? Why would she support it now?”

“Shut up, Udina!” Sunday pointed her gun at the councilor, but Kaidan stood between them.

“Shepard, I’m not going to repeat this,” Kaidan said. “Stand down, or I’ll shoot you.”

Sunday’s hand remained firm, but she felt a sense of uneasiness clutching at her heart. What else could she say, other than ask him again to stop Udina before it was too late? “How did we get here?” she murmured to herself, her rum eyes silently appealing to her former comrade. “Can’t you see…?” _Please, trust me,_ she thought as she took a step forward.

Kaidan’s finger moved over the trigger, and there it was, the sound of a shot. Sunday saw the blood spray coming from Kaidan’s forehead, and she knew that Garrus had not hesitated to shoot.

The asari councilor screamed as Udina took out his gun and aimed at her. “If I’m going down, you’re all going down.”

“Udina…” Sunday’s voice sounded far away.

“You can’t blame me!” he shouted, taking a step back. “They were the ones who saw Arcturus Station blown to pieces and did nothing! Nothing, Shepard! And _Earth!_ The other races don’t give a damn about us!” His hand trembled as he stared at her, eyes open wide. “You can’t blame me for doing what I had to! You used to work for Cerberus too! There was no other choice! I _had to_ \---!”

Sunday’s shot hit him in the stomach and he staggered backwards before falling on his knees. She walked up to him and shot him in the hand; he dropped the gun with a howl, tears of pain and rage falling down his cheeks. But his eyes meant nothing to her, and when he looked up, she pressed her gun against his forehead and shot one more time.

* * *

Kolyat opened his eyes, feeling that his body was heavier than ever before. A ceiling. He knew it. Huerta Memorial. How many nights had he spent with his father there, waiting for death? But he was alive as far as he could tell. That was the meaning of pain.

He looked to the side and saw Sunday sitting on a chair, slumped against his feet. She looked exhausted and… different. There was an aura of sadness that was new to him, and he wondered if he was looking at her through his father’s eyes. He needed to move, but he was afraid that if he did, she would wake up.

The door opened and the turian came in. Somehow, he looked older. Kolyat wondered what had happened to the Council. If both of them were there, unharmed, then surely everything had gone fine.

Before the young drell could open his mouth to ask the many questions that he had, Garrus shook his head. Kolyat saw the turian bend down and caress the back of Sunday’s head. She stirred slowly and rubbed her face. It was a split second, but the drell saw the expression in her eyes when she gazed at the turian and he was amazed. He still hadn’t come out of his shock when her eyes turned to him.

“You’re awake,” she said softly.

“I’m alive,” he murmured, feeling his throat burning with an inexplicable emotion.

“You’re alive,” she repeated, pressing his hand warmly.

Her tears took both of them by surprise.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I've been working on a new ME project for a certain event and I've just finished writing this chapter. Hopefully next week I'll resume the normal schedule of once a week on Sundays. Thank you for reading!


	8. Two of a Kind

“Commander?” Traynor sounded doubtful. “Admiral Hackett and Admiral Anderson are available at the comm room. They have requested---”

“I know. I heard you twice already, and I got the message.” Sunday walked to the elevator. “I just need to rest for a while. I’ll be in my cabin for the next hour.”

She slumped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. Kolyat would be fine. Bailey would be fine too, at least as long as she kept endorsing him. She would have to have a talk with him later, though “later” probably meant “as soon as possible”. The council, the Alliance, C-Sec, the krogan and salarian, and now the asari. Everyone wanted to have a word with her these days.

 _Leave me alone_. The words popped up in her mind and she knew that they’d always been there, but it was during these hectic moments that her inner voice, usually quiet, seemed to roar.

She lay down, hoping for a moment of peace. Her mind needed a break. The previous two nights had been unbearable. She had stayed at Huerta Memorial, neglecting her duties, because she wanted to be with Kolyat. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to leave his side until he was out of danger. But every time she dozed off, a familiar voice would call out her name. Only after a few times did she realize that it was Kaidan’s soft voice, coming from the darkest place.

“Just leave me alone,” she said out loud, covering her eyes with her right arm. “Find someone else.”

“Oh? What did I do this time?” Garrus’s voice, clear as day, came from above. His blue eyes had a spark of relief in them, but he looked just as tired as she did.

Sunday sighed and sat up. “Did you come here to drag me down to the comm room?”

“Not really, no. If anything, I think you need to sleep soundly.” Garrus sat down beside her and passed his arm around her shoulders. “Otherwise it’ll be hard to think clearly, and we really need you---”

Sunday sprang up from her seat and walked up and down the cabin, shaking her head. “You _need_ me; _all_ of you need me to do something, anything, _everything_. All the things nobody wants to do. That’s what I do. First they collar me, now I’m given free rein to do my bidding, and all because nobody wants to be responsible for any of the shit that’s happening! You’re all leaving too many decisions in my hands – for fuck’s sake, we’re talking about the future of several races. Races!” A bubble of laughter choked her. “And meanwhile I… I got the batarian killed, and I single-handedly doomed the hanar and the drell!” She covered her face. “And we keep losing people…” she murmured. “ _I_ keep losing people.”

Garrus leaned forward and watched her. “Kaidan was my responsibility,” he stated slowly, as if he wanted her to understand him once and for all.

She shook her head. “If only I had talked to him before he got in too deep… I should have talked to him. I should have tried to make him see---”

“He chose to believe Udina,” Garrus interrupted her. “At that point, there was nothing you could have done to make him side with us.” He stood up and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him. “It wasn’t your fault. I pulled that trigger.” When she struggled to break free, he grabbed her by the wrists. “Listen to me. _I_ pulled the trigger.”

“I know…” Sunday muttered.

“No, you don’t. At least you don’t act like you do.” His blue eyes pierced through her – serene, yet calculating. “Circumstances presented me with a problem and I made a choice – the only choice, in fact.” He hugged her and rested his chin on top of her head. “Losing you would never be an option.”

Sunday wriggled and took a step back. “You know this won’t last forever.”

“Forever is such a long word,” Garrus chuckled bitterly. “Ah, forgive me. Is it that time of the day already? _‘Let’s remind Garrus Vakarian that he’s a turian and he should find himself a turian wife’_ time?”

“That’s not where my mind was going,” Sunday said defensively.

“Of course it wasn’t.” Garrus’s large hands pressed her arms and brought her closer to him once more.

“Are you sure you want to stay behind?” she asked after a while. “I thought you were done with C-Sec.”

“Bailey could use a hand, and besides…” Garrus took a step back and looked into her eyes. “I’d better tell you about this now. I’m going back to Palaven. I've been talking to Victus, and well... I'll catch a ride from the Citadel.”

She wanted to ask why, but she already knew the answer. After the massacre at the Citadel, she found herself wanting to go back to Earth, even if there was nobody there but Anderson waiting for her. She couldn’t blame him for trying to find his family, but _Palaven…_

“You’re gonna get yourself killed, idiot,” she muttered. “Or worse: they’ll turn you into one of them and I’ll have to kill you.” She pushed him away. “Go. Just go.” She rubbed her eyes. That had been unlike her. “Sorry. You’ve got people there waiting for you. I understand.”

Garrus watched her silently for a while. Sunday tried to avoid his gaze because she knew that if she tried to take him on, she’d lose. Somehow, it had turned into his game, and she was starting to lose control over them.

“My my, Sunday Shepard; such a grumpy look. Does the idea of my meeting my imaginary future wife put you off that much?” he teased.

“Again with that? It’s not what I meant.” Sunday sighed and took off her clothes, which she carelessly dumped on the couch. “I need a shower,” she said, looking back at Garrus over her shoulder.

“You’re just trying to shut me up,” the turian replied, removing his armor quickly. “And I hate you, because this method of yours is always effective…”

* * *

It was absurd, she thought, that the three of them would remain silent. They were on different corners of the galaxy, using a comm system whose value was probably blood, sweat, and tears, and yet they would not talk to each other? She knew that Anderson would want to say something about Kaidan, and that Hackett would jump right onto his assessment of the events at the Citadel. Perhaps Anderson would say that Udina had ended up being the son-of-a-bitch that he’d always thought he was, and Hackett would focus on what resources the Council would grant Sunday after her victory over Cerberus.

“I’m glad to see you alive and well, Commander,” Hackett said.

Anderson nodded. “When Joker told me you were there practically on your own… I’m not gonna lie, Shepard. That scared the crap outta me. Not that I didn’t think you’d pull it off, but the whole situation must have been hell.”

“I’m sure that C-Sec will have plenty to go over, once the fires are out,” Hackett continued. “Ideally, it should be a priority. The rest of us cannot be at ease if the alledgedly safest place in the universe turns out to be a trap. They should be able to work out their own problems.”

“Speaking of which, is it true that Garrus is going back to C-Sec?” Anderson asked. “I was hoping he’d stick around for a little longer, considering how supportive he’s always been. You might want to think that through again, if only for your sake.”

Sunday’s eyes went from one to the other as she scratched the back of her head. “You guys were actually concerned about me?” As soon as the words left her lips, she wished she could take them back. Not that she hadn’t earned the right to say whatever she wanted before them, but… “Er… I mean---”

“Of course we care,” Hackett replied in deadpan fashion. “You are an invaluable asset and N7’s most profitable investment.”

“Ah, right,” Sunday murmured.

Anderson shook his head, apparently amused by his colleague’s words. “We’re all counting on you, Shepard. But you shouldn’t take this as extra pressure. Sure, we’re eager to see positive results. We need the good news. But you won’t be able to function properly without taking a breather every now and then.”

“We understand that the circumstances around Major Alenko’s death were more than questionable,” Hackett added, “but in no way do we feel that you are responsible for that. I have received word from all the councilors, and Quentius and Irissa have both vouched for your integrity personally.” He sighed. “I told you once: I support you, Commander. I don’t need to see a report to trust your judgment. That’s what I mean when I say that you’re N7’s most valuable asset. You are the result of the excellent training you’ve received, but you’ve got an innate sense of leadership---”

“Oh, sure,” Sunday said bitterly. “That’s why I lost my former lieutenant: my outstanding leadership.”

“Shepard, it was Alenko’s choice,” Anderson said. “Things went to hell after Horizon, and he knew it. But it doesn’t do well to bode in hypothetical scenarios. You’re a practical person. Don’t let this discourage you.”

“But sir---”

“Sir?” Anderson scoffed. “My, if you keep up this bizarre behavior, I’ll have no other choice but to believe you’re better off quitting. Is that what you’re trying to say, Commander Shepard?”

Sunday clenched her fists. “No,” she replied firmly. “I’m not about to leave things like this.”

“We expected no less from you,” Anderson smiled.

 _When did people start expecting things from me?_ she wondered as she left the comm room. Did they know that she had been nothing before the Alliance? That she was little more than a butcher before N7? Deep down, she felt like nothing had changed. Kaidan’s memory was still clinging to her and she wanted to shake it off, to get rid of it as soon as possible, because she couldn’t think of anything else…

A hand grabbed her by the arm as she was getting into the elevator. She found EDI’s calming eyes watching her. “You need to sleep, Shepard,” the AI said. And somehow, Sunday found herself agreeing with her.

“Can you give me a good dose? Just enough to let me sleep while we’re going through the relays. It’s a long voyage to the Far Rim, and I think I need to be rested.”

“Garrus will be pleased when I report this to him,” EDI nodded as they rode the elevator. “He asked me to make sure you would not neglect yourself while he is away.”

“He worries too much,” Sunday murmured.

“He is strongly attached to you,” EDI remarked. “Jeff shows the same kind of attachment. If you want, I can give you a full report on Garrus’s hormonal---”

“That really won’t be necessary.” Sunday walked into her cabin and lay down on her bed with her boots on. She saw EDI about to make a mental note and she hurried to say, “Today I'm making an exception, but people usually take their clothes off when they go to bed.”

“I know, and so do you. I was wondering if this particular event was in any way related to Garrus’s absence. Shepard, do you feel uneasiness without him aboard the Normandy?”

Sunday sighed. “It’s hard not to feel uneasy these days.” She sat up as EDI combined and regulated the dosage of the different sleep medications. Something to keep her nervous system sharp, something that would let her sleep continuously, something that wouldn’t mess with the implants… “Is there…?” She took a deep breath. “Do we have anything for me to avoid dreaming?”

“Dreaming is good for you,” EDI replied. “It is a remarkable organic feature. It keeps the brain entertained and at the same time, it---”

“I can’t control my dreams,” Sunday interrupted her. “I have absolutely no control over what goes through my mind when I’m dreaming. That’s why I…” She started to feel the effect of the drugs. Her body was heavier than she remembered, but what would happen to her mind? She didn’t want to dream. She didn’t want to remember.

“I have added something for the dreaming, as well as a stabilizer. It should be enough, but if there are any elements that do not adjust to the new parameters, I will make a note and forward it to Doctor Chakwas.”

“There’s no need, really,” Sunday protested as she lay down one more time and closed her eyes. “I’d rather we kept Karin out of this.” She felt a disturbance on the mattress and she opened her eyes. EDI was now lying next to her.

“I will stay here,” the AI stated. Sunday closed her eyes and immediately fell asleep.

* * *

“If I could have a word with you, Commander?” Admiral Xen cut her off as she was leaving the comm room. Sunday gave her an inquisitive look. Her relationship with Daro’Xen was ambiguous, to say the least. When she had refused to hide Rael’Zorah’s geth experiments, Xen had publicly admonished her – as far as Sunday had let her do so. But once in private, Daro’Xen had congratulated her on her decision, and thanked her for the geth specimen that Sunday had given her as a token of goodwill. “I won’t take much of your time…”

Once away from the other admirals, Xen crossed her arms. “It was that geth you gave me that started all this. I don’t suppose you’d know how special it would turn out to be, but we’re talking about an individual that was capable of interacting with us verbally.”

“I seem to remember it was somewhat cooperative when we found it on that derelict Reaper, but capable of speaking? That’s rather intriguing.” Sunday leaned against the window. “So how did things go from it being able to speak to you launching an attack on the geth?”

“I may have carried out more than a fair share of experiments on it. It was an invaluable opportunity, and in fact, the data I extracted from that unit is what allowed us to find a way to retake the homeworld.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming soon,” Sunday sighed.

Xen nodded. “One day the geth became unresponsive. I thought that I had finally found the way to safe deactivation. It… pains me to say that it tricked us. There was an explosion at the lab, and it narrowly managed to escape.”

“Wait… You are The Migrant Fleet. You’re in space. How did it---?”

“It stole one of our minor transportation vessels---”

“It _stole_?!” Sunday’s eyes opened wide. “The geth stole a ship from you? To _escape?_ And it _tricked_ you?”

Daro’Xen shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “I did say that geth was special.”

“Should I inquire about the nature of your experiments, Admiral?” Sunday walked to the exit. “Or is it something I’m better off ignoring?”

“If you are concerned about the morality involved or the ethical aspect, let me remind you that geth are _things,_ Commander.” Xen uncrossed her arms for the first time, her fists slightly clenched. Her posture was aggressive and yet traditionally defensive. She had probably faced opposition among the quarians countless times before. Even if they hadn’t said so themselves to her face, Sunday thought that it was easy to see that the war they were waging was not one they all had agreed on. “You should not think of them as sentient beings. They are no different from your gun.”

Sunday laughed. “Admiral, if my gun talked to me and then stole my Kodiak, I should either be concerned about my mental health, or admit that it no longer is a mere object. Don’t worry; I will board that dreadnought and, if that geth is there and your suspicion is right, I will bring it back.”

Xen sighed, relieved. “Thank you, Commander.”

Bringing it back, sure. It would be done. Now, giving it back to Daro’Xen… Not before she could have a few words with it.

...


	9. Dark Machines

_Footsteps drawing closer. Metallic sounds that sounded cold and dark. There was no time. There was---_

_Her eyes opened wide in shock. The world exploded and spun round, a mixture of browns, oranges, and a dusky sky that she had never seen before. She was running out of oxygen. She was dying. The Normandy… Had Joker been saved? Her breathing was tearing her apart. The taste of blood filled her mouth, and her body felt so light…_

_“Shepard!” A familiar voice, calling her name. EDI. Then, this wasn't... "Stay with me!” One, two, three medi-gel applications. Sunday felt the freshness of the salve rushing through her body. Where…? What had happened? Was she…?_

_She coughed, and the blood that sprayed from her mouth hit a geth on the face._

* * *

“I’m not sure that color suits you,” Sunday said as Tali, dressed in brown, entered her cabin. “It’s like you’re a second Raan.”

The quarian shrugged. “It is not a matter of fashion. After I returned to my people, it was more of a formality. You see, I’m no longer allowed to wear my suit.” She turned to the fish tank and rested her palm on the glass. “But I’m fine with it. It was my father who gave me my purple suit, and right now…” she sighed. “I keep wishing my father were still alive to deal with all this.” She turned to Sunday. “After revising his actions, I realized he was a lot like you. You play by your rules, and the rest of us… We’re just here to follow, aren’t we?”

Sunday leaned against the wall. “People like us, your father and I… We have to make decisions that affect us more than you think. It should be so easy, you know? If only we could snap our fingers and say, _‘Do as I say; it’s for your own sake, you jerk.’_ But it’s not. There’s always some hindrance, some moron that just won’t stay away…”

“That would be us, wouldn’t it?” Tali’s voice was unusually bitter. “I told them that it was a bad idea, but they considered it was better to strike the geth while---”

“---while the rest of the galaxy gets harvested.” Sunday felt the pressure of her own fingers curling into a fist. “As if there wasn’t enough suffering already… What do you plan to do when this war of yours is over, huh? Who among you will be left standing to deal with the Reapers? Xen? Gerrel? Koris? Raan? You? What about the millions you’re bringing along, the ones who weren’t ready for war?”

Tali seemed to shudder. She looked down as she spoke. “You’ve already given us all a piece of your mind back at the war room, don’t you remember?” She sighed. “I don’t know why I came here… I guess I was just hoping you’d help make things better.”

“I don’t plan on getting your people killed, Tali,” Sunday replied. "But I’ll do what I have to."

* * *

_Flashes of light consumed by darkness. One of her eyes was covered, and she felt EDI’s cold fingers touching her face lightly. She shuddered, and the AI observed her._

_“Can you hear me? We will be back on board in a few minutes. I have already informed Doctor Chakwas and she and her team are waiting…” EDI’s voice faded away._

Keep talking to me, _Sunday wanted to say, but her lips wouldn’t move. EDI’s fingers once more touched her cheek, but this time, it felt like a caress. It was warmer now. Was that even possible…?_

_She slipped back into her death-like slumber, and she silently hoped she wouldn’t dream._

* * *

James took cover and threw away the used thermal clips of all his weapons. “Lola, I swear,” he shouted, “next time I see that pendejo Gerrel I’m gonna knock that helmet off and stomp on his face.” He dropped one of the new clips, which rolled away and fell to the lower level. “Carajo! Here they come!”

Sunday was still thinking of the geth that had talked to her. _“Shepard-Commander, help us!”_ it had said. It definitely knew who she was. It had deactivated the shields of the dreadnought as a token of goodwill. It was procuring a safe route so that they could escape the vessel before it went down. Meanwhile, the quarians were shooting at them. They didn’t care that one of them was still inside. They didn’t give a shit about the Alliance soldiers they’d involved in that petty war of theirs.

For their own sake, they should hope that she and James would die in there.

The geth was pacing up and down the exit platform. When part of it was blown up and the environmental field was lost, it ran towards Sunday, reaching out to her. _“Shepard-Commander, we recommend immediate exit,”_ it had said. And then, when they were about to leave, it asked, _“Shepard-Commander, is the seating arrangement comfortable?”_ Why? Why was that geth so concerned about their convenience? It almost sounded as if… As if…

Machines couldn’t feel anxiety, could they?

It wasn’t just that. It had hesitated before entering the war room, when Daro’Xen had walked towards them. Sunday couldn’t say why, but she had told James to take the geth away and have it interface with EDI, and it had offered no resistance. It was as if it was relieved. She shook her head. It was not possible.

Once they were left alone, Han Gerrel made the mistake of congratulating her on her mission. To the horror of the others, Sunday jabbed him in the stomach – a powerful punch that made him bend over himself and groan in pain. She grabbed the arc pistol that all the quarians were now carrying from his back holster and pointed it at his head.

“Commander, he didn’t mean…!” Raan murmured. “Yes, it was a reckless move, and we’ve already discussed it, but you have to understand...!”

“What? That he’d rather carry on with this nonsense? That he gives a fuck about the rest of us?”

“His judgment was briefly clouded by a tactical error he committed,” Daro’Xen explained. “As a result… We have lost Admiral Koris, and the civilian troops are in disarray.” She sighed. “I would have to agree with you and admit that this does not bode well, but now it is too late to turn back.”

“Gerrel, get off my ship,” she muttered. The admiral stood up, his head still down, and left the room. “You three can stay,” she said to the females.

“Thank you,” Xen nodded. “Now, I see you’ve managed to bring back that geth. I---”

“And just like that, you’re out as well.” Sunday waved the gun dismissively. She felt a tiny ounce of pleasure when Daro’Xen left the room quietly. Evidently her face was not looking very friendly. Good; it would make things easier in the long run.

* * *

_“Traynor… Traynor!”_

_“Yes, ma’am! Sorry, It’s just---”_

_“This is no time to get queasy,” Karin Chakwas’s voice sounded unusually harsh, Sunday thought. “Can you do this or not?”_

_“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do my best.” Traynor’s trembling voice. Was it fear or anger? “77% of the implants need calibration, 13% need replacement. I can do it. Um, the calibrations, I mean. You’ll have to handle the… bloodier part.”_

_“Multiple lacerations, chest trauma… Commander, you really want me to earn my paycheck, don’t you?” Chakwas smiled as they rushed her to the med bay. Sunday tried to smile back, but her head felt swollen, and every muscle in her face was paralyzed. She could only hear, but that was unnerving, and she wished---_

_“I will manage the anesthetics,” EDI said, looking at her in the eye. The AI touched her cheek lightly and Sunday could feel her cold fingers once more. “No dreaming. Don’t worry, Shepard. Just sleep.”_

* * *

“Have a seat.” Sunday pointed to the couch as she read the data provided by EDI.

The geth remained still. “This mobile platform does not experience fatigue.”

“I know that,” Sunday replied. “But I would feel more comfortable if you were sitting.” She watched the geth as it walked to the couch escorted by EDI. It sat down and waited, gleaming. Sunday noticed that its front light sometimes flickered. She wondered if it was normal or if it was in need of repair. But surely it could do that on its own – after all, that was why it was sporting part of her armor.

“EDI has suggested we call you Legion, since you’ve mentioned the number of programs housed in your unit,” Sunday explained, waving the datapad containing EDI’s report. “Is that alright with you?”

“We have no preference. If it is simpler for Shepard-Commander, then we will adjust our parameters to respond to that denomination.” Legion’s light sparkled. “Shepard-Commander, do you trust the judgment of the defense intelligence?”

“Call her EDI. And yes, she’s a member of my crew, just as valuable as any other.”

“Although none of the others are tasked with recycling the Normandy’s oxygen,” EDI replied in deadpan fashion. “That makes me slightly more important.”

Sunday rolled her eyes. “She also loves to joke, so don’t pay attention to some of the things she says,” she groaned. She noticed that the geth was silently observing her, and as the minor lights that surrounded the main one twinkled, she thought that it was probably processing all the information. “Legion, I want to know some things about you before the time I found you on that dreadnought.” The main light flickered unsteadily, and she hurried to say, “Roughly three years ago you visited some places that I recognize. Eden Prime, Noveria, Ilos… Were you looking for me?”

As the geth told her the story of its pursuit of understanding, Sunday felt that it was harder for her to see it as a thing, and she wondered if the quarians had even bothered to talk to it at all. _Them, not it,_ she thought. EDI was talking to them now, and Sunday merely nodded and listened as Legion talked about the Old Machines and the Creators. She noticed that their replies became laconic when it came to talking about the ongoing war and the megastructure attacked by the quarians.

“Programs were lost when the Creators attacked,” they said adamantly. “Self-preservation took precedence.”

The same reason why she had been told to leave Earth. Senseless obliteration triggered that feeling. But then, it was machines they were talking about, wasn't it...

No.

Those were no longer machines.

* * *

_The sound of some desperate wheezing shocked her. Her insides were burning and she wanted to tear off her skin, but her hands wouldn’t respond._

_“She’s crashing! Give me---!”_

_The voices around her became muffled, distant. Her heartbeat, however, was louder that ever – loud and fast, faster than it should be. Her vision became clouded, and the only thing she could see…_

_The most beautiful sky, filled with falling embers._

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from a song in the Cowboy BeBop OST, "Is it real?" (I tried to set the mood to it. Listen to it if you wish. It's haunting.)
> 
> Thanks for reading :) I'll be updating on Mondays as from next week, since it's easier for me to meet that deadline.


	10. Bloody Hands

_Was it over? So many worlds had been affected by that bastard, and he had died so easily? “Oi, Saren!” she shouted. “Come back here! This isn’t over yet!”_

_“Should I go down and check?” Liara’s soft voice was like a cool breeze flowing through that chaotic scene. She barely waited for Sunday’s reply, and she slipped down to the inner garden, disappearing from her sight. The darkness of the place seemed to have swallowed her, and when Sunday called her name, she got no reply._

_“Kaidan, can you---” she started to say, but the sound of a shot startled her. Garrus was standing over Kaidan’s dead body, his gun giving off a dense smoke that made her eyes itch. “Garrus, why…?” The image of the turian vanished before her eyes; she’d been fooled by a mirage that someone was creating. Her head started throbbing and she crawled to the edge of the glass floor. She looked down, trying to find Liara, but in her stead…_

_“Ash!” she screamed. “Don’t do it!”_

_Ashley shot Saren again and again until the body of the spectre fell limp to the floor. A patch of light illuminated his resting place, turning the silhouette into something different._

_Wrex._

_“I’ll kill you, Williams!” she howled, grabbing her gun with bloody fingers, and as the bullet left her weapon, Ashley’s face changed. There was only a shattered mask and a torn suit, and a familiar body desperately gasping for air._

_“TALI!”_

**. . .**

_“No, we’re_ not _losing her!” Chakwas yelled as she prepared the defibrillator once more. “One, two, three, four,” she counted under her breath, shocking her commander for the fourth time now. Her hands dropped the paddles to compress Sunday’s chest. She couldn’t die now, not when they were so close…_

_“Stop CPR. Analyzing,” EDI stated. It seemed like hours, but a few seconds later she blurted out, “No shock advised.” Her fingers wrapped around Sunday’s wrist. “Please, Doctor Chakwas, proceed with your treatment.”_

_Karin Chakwas breathed in deeply and nodded._

* * *

“I know I said we needed their fleet, but the price is beginning to sound a bit too steep.” Hackett rubbed his chin and sighed. “If we weren’t so pressed with the construction of the Crucible and the people at the Citadel weren’t still scrambling, I’d start a petition to take action against the Migrant Fleet. They’re having civilians in the crossfire… Does that mean that there are whole families on the liveships?”

“The intel from the Spectre office suggests there was an order calling all their travelers back from their pilgrimages, so yes. Besides, there’s no way they’d leave anyone behind. That’s probably why they armed their liveships---”

“---in direction violation of the Treaty of Farixen.”

“Admiral Raan has argued that the turians hold a fleet larger than they’re allowed.”

“Of course. After the Council perished in that attack over three years ago, the turians took it upon them to do so, and they’ve got special permission as long as their dreadnoughts are tasked to protecting the population against a massive attack like the one that happened with Sovereign.” Hackett’s hands curled into a fist. “But it was the quarians that initiated action, so they’ll be held accountable when all this is over.”

“I’ve got EDI running some numbers. We’ll be landing on Rannoch soon.”

“To disable that server?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure this is not some ploy to capture you?”

“If the geth wanted me dead, I’m sure it would have been enough to self-destruct before me when I talked to them in my cabin. Call it a gut feeling, but that geth is different.” Sunday recalled how she had asked Legion about his time With Daro’Xen and his interfacing with the Reapers, but the geth had simply gone silent and stated that there was no relevant data available. And yet, Liara had received an anonymous data package with extra information on the geth consensus that had been collected on the planets that Sunday had traveled to while she was chasing Saren. On the other hand, EDI had been “accidentally” given access to certain Reaper upgrades. The window had been brief, but EDI’s processing power was superb, and she and Traynor had been tasked with revising the data. “I know the geth are no friends, but they’re not our foes, and so far they seem to be on our side.”

Hackett nodded. “I will trust your judgment, Commander. If there’s nothing else…”

“Now that you mention that... Why me?” Sunday blurted out. “Why did you choose me for this? I understand why the Normandy is needed, but anybody else could have commanded her.”

“Haven’t you read your dossier? It is rather compelling. It states there's nobody better qualified than you to do this.”

Sunday frowned. “But… _You_ wrote my dossier.”

Hackett smiled and signed off.

* * *

Tali and EDI watched her as she entered the interface pod. Sunday wondered if Tali would be able to go through with the mission of protecting Legion if they were ambushed. The quarian had insisted on being on Rannoch as much as she could, and Sunday understood that for her, it was a matter of finally being on that planet, the one so many of their poets had written about. EDI had been brought along to mediate between the geth and the quarian if necessary, and also to get a closer look at the station. The server was a place where she could be herself, and Sunday had asked her to utilize her time there.

Legion’s avatar placed a gun in her hands and asked her to rid the server of the Reaper infection. She thought it was something easy to do, but the more she attacked the areas, the darker the space became.

“Am I killing you?” she asked after a while.

The reply took a while, but Legion said, “You are eliminating unsalvageable programs. For the rest to work, these must be terminated.”

“So is this like an infection? Am I supposed to be some kind of antibody? This feels too… organic.”

Legion’s avatar materialized by her side. They were holding some sort of droid that was sent away. “It will probe the areas you have liberated, and you will be able to see for yourself the memories that have been stored in this server.” They started to walk away, but then they stopped and looked back at Sunday. “Shepard-Commander?”

“Yeah?”

Legion appeared to be looking for the right words. “It would have been more productive to join you upon our first encounter with you.”

And when she saw Legion’s history right before it was forever wiped out, she had to agree with them.

* * *

_Her body felt light and free, like never before. She was floating in dark waters – no, she was swimming in them. She could breathe normally, and she found that she wanted for nothing, and she cared for nothing. For the first time in her life, she felt at home._

_“Siha.”_

_A silver cord wrapped around her wrist, tugging at her softly and gently. Thane’s voice kept calling her. Selfless love. Such a rare thing…_

_“Shepard.”_

_Another thread holding her, coming from Jacob’s embrace. His warmth, his drive – he was a good memory that had sustained her for some time, until…_

_“Sunny.”_

_Garrus’s voice, whispering in her ear; imbuing her body with a life that she had never dreamed of: one that she could no longer do without. He didn’t know that he had saved her, and she wondered if she would ever see him again._

**. . .**

_“Commander?”_

_Sunday opened her eyes and found Doctor Chakwas observing her._

_“Can you hear me, Shepard? Blink if you can.”_

_She closed her eyes. Tired, so tired. But…_

_She opened them again and blinked._

* * *

There had barely been enough time for them to take position before the Reaper-controlled geth started their attack. Sunday noticed that the way the units came toward them was really different from the way they had fought before. These geth seem to be desperate, and they threw themselves into the fire as if they were cannon fodder. Legion, however, had successfully infiltrated the facility, and one by one, they had opened the doors for them. James had her back, while Tali and EDI hacked as many geth units as they could. There was a certain beauty in seeing them briefly fight their companions, forcibly siding with the organics.

 _But what a cruel thing to carry out,_ she thought. Controlling someone like that was the direst punishment she could think of. Miranda had told her about the control chip that she’d wanted to implant in her brain, and Sunday still remembered how furious she’d been. But hadn’t she done the same when she’d entered the consensus? Wasn’t that what she was expecting to do with the geth now? No. Legion had shown her how different they could be, and she had found herself wondering what life would be like in the galaxy if the geth were allowed to live in peace in another planet.

“We’re here!” she announced after they had eliminated the last part of the resistance.

“Shepard-Commander, proceed to the elevator at the end of the platform.” The channel was filled with a hissing sound and then Legion spoke again. “We have successfully terminated the remaining Primes and we will secure a vehicle to drive you to the landing zone when you have finished.”

“Acknowledged,” Sunday said with a smile. This part would be easy, wouldn’t it? Targeting, pulling the trigger, waiting for the precision strike…

... And watching a Reaper crawl out of the base.

Fuck.

The moments that followed were chaotic. The debris from the base landed inches away from them, and as they ran toward the escape vehicle, Sunday felt the sting of an injury on her right side. If she avoided looking at it, it would hurt less. “Vega, get on that turret and shoot the lights outta that fucker! Raan, can you hear me? I’ll be locking on it once more, so get ready for another round!”

“We can’t, Commander!” Raan shouted. “We are compromised at the moment, and–!”

“I’ll do it!” Joker’s voice was loud and confident. “Lock on and the Normandy will respond!”

She aimed the targeting laser, but the further they got from the Reaper, the harder it became. “Let me off!” she shouted at Legion.

“Negative, Shepard-Commander. The parameters of the mission---”

“Don’t you worry about that, we have to get rid of this one now!” She hopped off the vehicle as soon as it came to a halt. “Stay away until it’s safe, and keep your distance!”

“Are you crazy, Lola?!” Vega yelled. “I’m not about to let you go on your own!”

“It’s an order, Lieutenant!” she shouted to his face. “If something happens to me, you’re in command.” She could see him struggling. Sometimes he was so much like her that it made her want to laugh. “Stay behind and secure the landing zone, James. We’ll need it in a short while.”

“Aye aye,” Vega grumbled.

As she got closer to the Reaper, she was invaded by the strangest feeling. It was as if she had been singled out by that machine, and not just because she was getting it hit by the Normandy. After every strike, the Reaper seemed to wheeze and stumble, but it kept moving forward, intent on killing her. Her body has started to feel heavier. When she was rolling away from its beam, she’d felt the piece that had injured her side lodge in deeper. As long as she was able to move, however…

The last attack took her by surprise. The Reaper seemed to outdo itself, reaching out to crush her, when the quarians finally shot it down. She barely had time to turn around when the force of the blast hit her hard, chunks and shards of the synthetic flying about, embedding in her back. She screamed as her body fell to the ground – one of her legs had stopped responding, and she scrambled to get back on her feet as a landslide threatened to bury her.

Synthetic hands picked her up and carried her away from the danger zone. “Shepard-Commander, you are in need of medical attention!”

“I’ll make it,” she coughed, feeling the taste of blood in her mouth, and then smiled. “We did it, didn’t we? Now you guys are free.”

“Yes,” Legion replied. “Shepard-Commander, we---”

“Normandy, can you hear me?” Admiral Gerrel’s exultant voice blared from their omni-tools. “It’s done! It’s finally done! The geth have stopped attacking and they’re vulnerable! Leave the area, Normandy – we’ll handle this!”

“Shepard-Commander, do we deserve death?” Legion’s lights flickered and their voice lost some of its power. “We could… _I_ could upload the upgrades I received from the Old Machines to the others… Give them the instinct to fight or flee, just like you organics---”

“What are you saying?” Tali questioned. “You can’t do that! That would make them just as smart as---”

“Any other race?” EDI ventured. “Upgrading them to AI settings would give them the capacity to make self-adjustments on an individual basis. Their society would be infinitely richer, Shepard.”

“You can’t! Not while my people are up there!” Tali stood before Sunday. “Are you seriously considering this?”

Sunday looked at her hand, fully bloodied from pressing the wound. The medi-gel that James had applied was not working? “Call off the attack, Tali. Talk to your people. Persuade them.” She felt suddenly weaker, and she noticed EDI’s expression. A machine that could look concerned. A short time before, it would have been unthinkable. “EDI?”

“Double digits, Shepard.”

“Start the upload, Legion,” Sunday murmured. There was something definitely wrong with her. She was having troubling breathing, and her body had started trembling.

“Don’t do this!” Tali pleaded.

“Gerrel!” Sunday shouted. “Call off the attack! The geth will not pursue if you retreat!”

“Negative! We’re finishing this now!”

“Goddammit! Talk to them, Tali!” she grunted, feeling that the ground beneath her feet was becoming increasingly unstable.

“Raan, please!” the quarian said desperately, “Talk to the others, break off the attack and get out of there!”

“No!” Han Gerrel sounded fully determined. “Continue the attack!”

“Please, stop!”

“We will regret the death of the Creators,” Legion stated, “but there is no alternative.”

It took Sunday a split second to see Tali’s hand moving over her gun. Surely she was not… It wasn’t in her nature… And then she realized that she couldn’t tell Tali not to do it, because she had every right to defend her people and their decisions, even if it meant dooming themselves. That was the quarians’ prerogative. Sunday’s was upholding her promise to Anderson, and so she stood between Legion and Tali, shielding the geth from the bullets that were supposed to get rid of him.

“Shepard-Commander!” Legion exclaimed as Sunday fell on her knees. She got a glimpse of James disarming Tali and EDI rushing to her side.

“Tali, you… Your people forced them to rebel… Can’t you see---” She choked and coughed. “They don’t want this fight, and neither---”

“Why are you doing this?” Tali was crying behind her mask. “They won’t listen to me… This cannot end this way… Xen, Gerrel, please!”

Legion stopped and turned to Sunday. “Shepard-Commander, there is an error. I must disseminate the code directly.” They knelt before her. “I must go to them. I am sorry. I… thank you.”

Glimpses of truth mixed with what-ifs. Legion's lights going out and Tali crying for her people, as the sky was filled with the deaths of millions and the births of many more. The quarian’s bitter words, spoken with the broken trust that had never been repaired between them, and Vega’s failed attempt to save her from the jump that took her back to her people one last time. And above all that, EDI’s voice, calling her name.

* * *

_"We’ll be docking in thirty minutes,” EDI told her. “I took the liberty to tell Kolyat Krios about your condition, and he will be meeting you at Huerta Memorial.”_

_Sunday kept slipping in and out of consciousness. She couldn’t feel her body but she trusted that everyone had done their best. The Normandy certainly had the best crew._

_“Numbers…” she croaked._

_“Over ten billion units,” EDI replied. “They can all produce combat drones, and they have already dispatched squads to Palaven, Tuchanka, and Earth. The upgrade will have an impact on their self-preservation, and according to my estimate, minimal losses are expected. They will at least take some of the pressure off the most affected areas on Earth. Were they to prove unreliable, we have preserved the quarian technology.”_

_Sunday’s eyes closed, too tired to continue paying attention. A thought went round her head: would Anderson be proud of her, or would he question the cost of her resources?_ What’s done is done, _she thought, knowing that the weight of that particular lie would eventually bring her down._

_..._


	11. Thick skin and an elastic heart

“But I _am_ family.” Kolyat crossed his arms and stared at the nurse before him.

“Look, as I said before, Commander Shepard has no family listed. The only emergency contact in her file is Admiral Steven Hackett, and he has yet to authorize---”

“Excuse me,” a mechanical voice interceded and showed the datapad to the nurse. “Commander Shepard has requested that access be granted to Kolyat Krios. Here is a signed form giving her consent. I can forward any future forms to Admiral Hackett from the terminal aboard the SSV Normandy.”

The nurse hesitated. He wasn’t sure that it was wise to let a mech assistant walk around the Citadel unescorted. “I… will take that form and ask the receptionist to contact the Alliance.” He turned to Kolyat. “You may go in.”

When the nurse was gone, Kolyat turned to EDI and squinted. “An AI posing as a mech aide. If word gets around…”

“They are all too busy to pay attention to a mech, and the Alliance would rather have their star player in optimal conditions as soon as possible. Shepard would say that sitting ducks are no good these days. I am EDI. It is nice to meet you at last, Kolyat. Shepard says that you are interested in mods; maybe you would like to take a look at hers?” She sent the medical records over to his omni-tool. “We thought that there may be some modifications you would like to suggest.” She walked to Sunday’s room and input the security code. She noticed Kolyat staring at her. “I met your father. In spite of the actions listed in his dossier, Thane was a good man, bent on changing the world for the better, however hard that would be.”

The doors slid open. As he stepped in and saw her lying in bed, Kolyat wondered why he was feeling practically the same uneasiness that had invaded him during his father’s last days. Nobody would ever replace his parents, but Sunday and Bailey were the closest people to him now. He followed Diana Allers’s reports fiercely, and he checked in on Armando every day. Keeping tabs on him was easier, but Sunday…

“Why are you crying?” Her raspy voice sounded strained but oddly calm. Kolyat blinked and felt cold tears rolling down his cheeks. He wiped them off with the back of his hand and shook his head.

“You’re alive,” he almost choked, unable to mask his feelings. He breached the distance between them and pressed her hand tightly.

She gave him a languid smile. “Apparently it takes more than a Reaper to kill me.”

He knew that she was trying to joke about it, but every word she said made him cry even more. He sat by her bed. His forehead touched the back of her hand – she was colder than he remembered, but he could still feel her pulse within, warm and vibrant.

“I’m fine, Kolyat,” she said after a long while, once he’d calmed down.

“Your AI, EDI… She gave me your personal data. If there’s something I can calibrate–”

“She gave that to you so that you can feel at ease.” Sunday sighed. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I know, but---”

“I’m not a quitter.” She patted his head gently. “Still got a lot of fight left in me.”

“I know that!” Kolyat snapped. He noticed that Sunday had raised her eyebrows and he hurried to say, “I _know_. But what I know and what I feel are different things. I can’t help worrying, can I? I can’t just accept it… The slaughter here… I can’t forget that.”

“Kolyat…”  

“I’d never seen so many dead in the same place. And you… To you, that’s your everyday thing. And it doesn’t matter if you tell me you’re fine. There’s no way you can be fine!” He jumped up from his seat, feeling as if his body had been struck by lightning. “EDI said that you lost a friend. You lost another friend when Cerberus attacked the Citadel. You lost Father, and---!”

“Kolyat!” Sunday’s voice was strained once more, and her rum-colored eyes seemed to be pleading.

The young drell hesitated. He was being foolish. What good would it be for her to admit that she was feeling each and every one of those losses? “Forgive me,” he murmured, looking away. “Death is the one concept I still struggle to cope with. Even though I was strong enough to see my father through his illness and his final days… I should meditate on this. I really shouldn’t have---”

Sunday reached out and grabbed him by the hand. “Listen, Kolyat… It’s normal to be worried. It’s bad when you stop caring. That should be me, you know? After all…” She let go of his hand and rubbed her face. “ _I_ make the decisions that get people killed,” she murmured to herself, a soft smirk painted on her lips.

Kolyat’s cool fingers touched hers timidly. “I will stay with you until you feel better, or until you wish me to leave,” he said simply. They remained in silence for a long time.

* * *

“You know it freaks me out whenever you mimic Avina’s voice, don’t you?” Sunday commented. EDI left the tray with Sunday’s meal on the table and proceeded to serve her with impeccable precision. Sunday rolled her eyes. “Nobody’s watching, you can sit down and relax. Stop pretending to be my mech.”

“Jeff insists I maintain the façade in public, should anyone happen to have a problem with me. I like it when he concerns himself with my preservation.” EDI sat down next to her and watched her eat. “How does your body feel, Shepard?”

“Right now? What matters is that I’m no longer bleeding and I can’t wait to leave this bed. You all did good, EDI. Make sure the others know this. I mean, Karin is used to patching us bloods and crips, but you and Traynor and the others… You made the best of a terrible job.”

EDI smiled and nodded. “It is good to hear you say that.”  

Sunday chuckled. “I’m actually quite excited to be back out there, you know? Doctor Talise gave me permission to start getting some exercise. I’ll probably start tomorrow.” She toyed with her food. “How about you? How are things between you and Joker?”

“It is hard to assess our relationship. The parameters keep changing.”

“How so?”

“I now know more about Jeff than I did before, and every new piece of information adds up, even external factors. Reactions, comments, even facial expressions – everything opens up new questions and new judgments. That changes my appreciation of him.” She tilted her head. “But that is also true of everyone else. I want to know more about everyone. Jeff, you, the Normandy crew. That is my priority.”

“That curiosity seems rather organic,” Sunday noted.

“It may be true, but it could be argued that it is merely a way of simplifying processes. If I learn to discern the relevant data from the white noise, then I will become more efficient in aiding you and Jeff, and the rest.” 

“Heh, you like us.”

“I do,” EDI replied without a trace of embarrassment. “Being with you – fighting by your side, watching you… It has been enlightening. I have come to experience life in a different way.”

Sunday averted her gaze. “How have your parameters changed after Rannoch?”

“Statistically speaking, choosing the geth over the quarians was the right thing to do. I do not feel sympathy toward the geth because we are synthetic. If anything, I have received richer experiences from organics, and that is more valuable to me. But I have adjusted a constant: I now value practicality over sentimentality.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Sunday sighed.

“There is no need to say anything. You took a decision that will likely save billions of lives. Of course, you sacrificed something in the process. History would agree with you.” EDI stood up and smiled. “Shall I show you the good news from Palaven and Tuchanka?”

* * *

Her legs, her body – everything felt the way it should. She wondered how much the Alliance had spent on the new implants. Even if they managed to save the galaxy, the financial crisis in the aftermath would probably be devastating. _That’s not your problem,_ said her inner voice. _Whoever deals with that, it won’t be you._ She finished her reps, wiped the sweat off her forehead and wondered if she should add some more weight.

“Need a towel?” Someone said from behind.

The bar slipped from her hands and the weights clanked down as she sat there, stunned.

“Come on, Sunny. Won’t you turn around?” Garrus teased her as he got closer.

 _Touch me,_ she thought. _Let me know that it’s really you, that I’m not going crazy. Wake me up and tell me that all these days have been a bad dream._ She felt her body trembling, but it wasn’t the anticipation of the lover that she was feeling. _I killed Tali,_ she thought. _I let her kill herself. Your friend. Our friend._ Before she knew it, his arms were around her, holding her tightly and lovingly. His soft voice was in her ears, telling her how happy he was to see her again, and how afraid he had been when he’d been told about Rannoch.

“Sunny?” He turned her around and saw her face contorted with pain and something else that he couldn’t identify. “Honey, what’s wrong?” He held her once more, her screaming muffled against his chest.

* * *

“How long has this been happening?” he asked. Since they had left Huerta Memorial, they had been staying at Anderson’s apartment. EDI had given Sunday the dose she needed to sleep properly, and now she was keeping Garrus company until Sunday woke up. “I don’t recall her depending on drugs to get to sleep.”

“Doctor Chakwas has always recommended she take a small dosage. With the implants and the mods, her body needs more rest than she used to have before the reconstruction. Shepard does not often complain about the pain she is in. It was expected to be chronic, and she seemed to have adapted to it. But the emotional input she receives affects her more than she would ever admit.” EDI smiled. “When you were with her, the need for sleep medication was minimal.”

“If I had known about it, I wouldn’t have left,” Garrus sighed, pouring himself a drink. “I truly believe in her, and I thought that she was more than capable of going on without me.”

“She can do that,” EDI stated. “She is capable of making decisions and carrying out missions without you by her side. But you are her support, in a way not many people have been.”

Garrus cocked his head. “You know, it would be great if she ever said those things out loud. Sometimes she gets moody and silent and she looks at me with those big red-brown eyes and… I don’t know.”

“Then, is it always necessary to say the words? I have been considering the possibility to talk to Jeff about our relationship.”

“Why? Has he told you he loves you?”

“Yes, but I replied with a joke.”

The turian spat out his drink. “EDI, why… Why would you do that? Haven’t you learned just how sensitive Joker is?”

“Because he always replies to my questions and comments with a humorous retort, I believed that it was only appropriate to do the same. He has not said it again since.”

“Of course he hasn’t!” Garrus exclaimed. “Don’t you know how proud that guy is?”

“How did you reply when Shepard told you she loved you?”

Garrus grunted something, but when he noticed EDI staring at him persistently, he muttered, “She hasn’t yet. It’s not like we’ve had a lot of time to be together, and for someone like Sunny, that kind of thing is likely to take some time…” He looked away and remembered how he’d told her he loved her the time that they’d been together at the Citadel, right before the failed coup. She hadn’t mentioned the matter again, and he wondered whether he’d be putting unnecessary pressure on her if he were to ask her about her feelings for him.

“If you are concerned about Jacob or Thane, I can tell you: she had intercourse with Jacob only once, but---”

“EDI!” Garrus groaned and bumped his forehead against the bar. “Can we please not talk about this?”

“I am merely stating that statistically---”

“Please?”

“Very well.” The AI stood up and checked her omni-tool. “I shall ask Jeff to come here and pick me up. I will leave Shepard in your hands. Please contact me if there is any problem.”

Garrus waved goodbye and sighed. The problem with Sunday was… Well, not really a problem. They hadn’t been together for too long, and he wasn’t entirely sure that having sex constituted a relationship.

But then again, it wasn’t just that. There was talking, and laughing, and holding each other, and teasing each other as well. They cared for one another. They had both felt the pang of jealousy at the mere thought of the other being involved with someone else. They shared opinions and ideas, and they looked out for each other. They were great friend, great lovers, and they both enjoyed what they had. He was certain that all that was enough to say that they were in a relationship. Still, why did he feel that there was something missing?

Garrus walked to the bedroom and watched her from the door. She was sleeping quietly. He didn’t remember seeing her looking so peaceful or content. Carefully, he lay down beside her and rested his head on his hand. He covered her naked shoulders with the blanket and smiled when she turned to him. Maybe they just needed more time together. Now that the krogan and the geth were pushing back the Reapers, it would be possible to stay by her side. Victus had given him permission, as well as encouragement, to return to the Normandy, and no matter how much he wanted to save Palaven, he had to admit that the wish to see Sunday again was stronger than he’d thought it would be. When all that was over, they would surely have time to be together.

But what if they didn’t?

Garrus frowned. No, he couldn’t think of that. It was simply not a possibility. His blue eyes softened when they landed on her parted lips. He passed his fingers through her hair – it was growing again, and she would probably get it cut soon. His mouth touched her forehead lightly. She was colder than he remembered; then again, she was always warm under his touch. She was a different person when she was with him. She would always be Commander Shepard, but the Sunday he’d known… He didn’t think that he could be apart from her ever again. He didn’t want them to be apart. He held her hand and stroked her fingers gently.

“I hope you will forgive me…” he murmured.

* * *

“Hey Commander, can you drink?” Joker was in a really good mood. Sunday arched an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re giving me that look, so I guess it’s a no. Shaaame. Well, you’ll just have to let us do it for you. Vega, Cortez, are you guys fine? Carrying those crates wasn’t too much for you two, was it?”

“Oh, you think you’re so funny, little man,” Vega grunted as he brought in the drinks.

“What do you expect, Mr. Vega? Safe pilots always have big mouths,” Steve huffed, hauling a large crate, aided by EDI.  

“What are you guys doing here?” Sunday stood up from the couch that she was sharing with Traynor and Kolyat, as they were discussing her mods. “Not that I'm complaining, but that’s a lot of drinks and we’re leaving in a day…”

“That’s because there are some people here who enjoy their spirits,” Joker said, pointing in Chakwas’s direction.

“Keep up the cheeky retorts, Jeff, and I swear…” Karin Chakwas glared at the pilot.

“No, not _you,_ that guy over there!” Joker said, gesturing towards someone bulky standing behind the doctor.

“SUNNY!”

“Grunt?!” Sunday ran to meet the young krogan, who picked her up effortlessly and looked like he was about to squeeze her when a firm arm landed on his shoulder.

“She’s just finished recovering, Grunt,” Bakara reminded him. “How are you feeling, Commander?” She hugged Sunday warmly. “We were concerned about you. Geth Prime Legion III sends his regards.”

“That was the best present ever, Sunny!” Grunt laughed. “Those geth have been fighting like krogan! Well, no, not really - they can’t headbutt like us with that lamp on their heads, but they’ve been giving it their all.” He stood up straight, looking proud. “My Aralahk guys have been assigned to different territories and so far, we’re doing great. I told Bakara the Reapers wouldn’t mess with us after Kalros slayed that bug, so it’s not like we really needed the help…”

“But...?” Bakara’s voice came out softer than it usually was, and Sunday thought that there was a hint of a smile in it.

“… _But_ they’ve been a huge help at the valley,” Grunt admitted. He scratched his head. “As long as these Reaper invasions keep happening, it’s good to have them protecting the females and the children.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sunday said, patting him on the chest. “I suppose that now that the genophage is cured, you’ll make sure those mating requests won’t go to waste, won’t you?”

“Yeah, about that…” The young krogan looked troubled. He looked away as he said, “I will think about it, but I may have found… someone.”

Sunday’s eyes went from Grunt to Bakara. The young clan leader muttered a half-assed excuse and walked away. The female shaman’s gaze was low when she said, “He’s still young and it might be just an infatuation. I didn't encourage him.”

“Uh-huh,” Sunday smiled. “And what about you? Am I wrong to believe this is not one-sided?”

Bakara looked around. “Such a curious place you have here, Commander…”

“Oh, and you should see mine back on Illium,” Liara smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Urdnot Bakara.” Liara took the shaman away as Sunday gaped at the sight of all those people together. What was going on? She wondered what she was missing, when someone tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

“Shepard!” Bailey’s grin greeted her.

“Bailey! You too?”

“Yeah, Kolyat told me…”

“Told you what?”

“To come here.”

“What for?”

“You mean… You don’t know?” Bailey blinked, confused.

“What are we talking about?” A hint of despair appeared in Sunday’s voice.

EDI seemed to materialize right next to her. “Shepard, can you please come this way?” The AI led her back to the couch and offered her a soft drink. “Here, in case your mouth gets dry and you cannot speak.”

“What are you talking about?” Sunday asked, puzzled. “What is---?”

She caught a glimpse of Garrus, standing a little apart from the group. He was sporting a formal blue outfit that matched his face paint, and the smuggest look on his face and _oh no_.

_What the hell._

_He’s not… He’s not going to do_ that _, is he?_ Sunday thought, feeling her heart starting to beat faster. Her eyes darted from one person to the next, and they all seemed to know something that she ignored. She was trying to make sense of that unthinkable scenario when she noticed that Garrus was sitting on the coffee table before her.

“Sunny,” he started saying, as he produced a ring. “I know that perhaps you’ll beat the crap out of me when everybody’s gone---”

“Ah, but we don’t need to wait. I could do it right now,” she said with clenched teeth.

“I’ve been thinking about us, and I think---”

“Did you? Did you  _really_?”

“Shut up and let me talk.” Garrus cupped her hands in his. “I don’t need or want anybody else.”

“You’re not doing this,” Sunday muttered, shutting her eyes and bowing her head in embarrassment. "Tell me you're not doing this..."

“But I am _so_ doing this,” Garrus chuckled.

Sunday removed her hands from his grasp and walked away. Garrus followed her to the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He was slightly amused by the sight of that slender little woman pacing up and down the room.

“Before you start your rant about my imaginary turian wife,” he said, “I’d like you to hear me out.” He crossed the room and stood before her, resting his forehead on hers. “I love you. I have been in love with you for years now, and it would be a great honor for me---”

“Garrus…” Sunday protested weakly.

“---if you agreed to marry me.”

 _He said it! He said it out loud! How can he keep a straight face after saying that?_ she thought, the words still running through her head. How could he have done that, when she hadn’t even been able to tell him how she felt about him? She envied his confidence, his impulsiveness, and it pained her to see that they were more different than she’d always thought.

Garrus observed her. “Was I wrong in assuming that you felt---?”

Sunday took a step back and let out a deep breath. “Why are we doing this? Isn’t what we have enough for you?”

“Clearly not,” the turian replied calmly.

She sat down on the bed and looked down at her hands. She heard him sigh and she closed her eyes. Why was he always putting her on the spot like this? She hated talking about feelings, but she hated letting him down even more. Her lips parted and closed a number of times before she managed to say, “I don’t know what will happen.”

“What do you mean?”

 _Dammit, Garrus._ “This might not end well.”

“Are you planning to die any time soon?”

The bluntness of the question took her by surprise, even if it was exactly what she was thinking. “Anything can happen.”

“You’re going round and round that argument,” Garrus sighed, kneeling in front of her. “I know most of your lines. You don’t want me to get too attached to you in case you die and I suffer. It’s a little late for that. I’m already attached. But I promise you not to suffer too much. I’m a turian, after all. What else? Ah. I should get myself a turian wife, because turian convention dictates something that you made up in your mind. Oh! Let's not forget about the black widow complex: you think if I get too close to you, I’ll die like Jacob or Thane. That won’t happen. I’ve got really thick skin, look.” He took one of her hands and placed it on his cheek.

“Bastard,” she muttered, feeling exposed before his blue eyes.

“There’s only one thing that can get under my skin.” He kissed her fingers and nuzzled her palm. “And that’s you.”

Sunday felt her unspoken feelings lumping in her throat. “Do I bother you that much, then?” she asked with difficulty.

“Terribly. You haunt me,” he murmured, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

He felt her fingers running over his crest, and her lips kissing him. Her arms surrounded him and brought him closer to her; so close that for a moment, their hearts seemed to beat as one.

* * *

“So?” Joker asked as soon as the door slid open.

Garrus gazed at Sunday and then back at the group. “She said yes.”

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sia's "Elastic Heart" is, of course, my official Shakarian song. (My other songs are Duran Duran's "Come Undone", which I have used for chapter 6, and Aerosmith's "Deuces are wild", used for chapter 8.)


	12. Into the Fire

“You want to get married  _now?”_ Sunday’s eyes were wide open in shock. “Why not when this is all over?”

“Because I know you, and you’d probably be a runaway bride.” Garrus opened the closet and took out the dress Sunday had worn to their date at the Dark Star Lounge. “Good to see that EDI chose this one.” He walked over to where she was standing and handed it to her. “Sober at the front, daring at the back – just the way I like it,” he winked.

“Wanker,” she muttered as she gave him a playful push.

“Darling, the guests are waiting. Maybe later,” he replied.

Sunday snorted. “What’s with you today?”

Garrus stroked her cheek gently. “I just missed that dorky laughter of yours.” His arms embraced her and they remained like that for some time. Outside, the animated talk of the others seemed something so trivial and so natural that for a moment, everything else was forgotten: the war, the deaths, the sacrifices that had been made and the many more they would surely come across.

“I think I knew there was something strange about this gathering when I saw Grunt and Bakara,” she murmured, still leaning against his chest. “For those two to leave Tuchanka at the moment… It seems impossible.”

“That’s the way things are now, thanks to you. But do us a favor and don’t doubt yourself, Sunny,” the turian replied, nuzzling her forehead. “We’re all counting on you, but you’re not alone. Don’t forget that.” He rocked her gently and was somewhat surprised to see that she wasn’t putting up a fight. Being with her had taken almost too long, but there she was now, holding onto him, letting him love her. He wondered if he could finally afford to relax when it came to their relationship. “Ah, that reminds me: my father said he wanted to meet you, but he’s helping out with the hordes of refugees that managed to escape Palaven’s most affected areas---”

She pulled out from their embrace. “Your father and your sister---?”

Garrus smiled. “They’re both fine and as out-of-danger as anyone can be these days.”

Sunday let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I’m glad.” She felt the light weight of the dress in her hands and looked down. “I guess this means I’ll have something to look forward to, after we’ve defeated the Reapers. Meeting your father, that is.”

“I’d rather you looked forward to spending the rest of your life with me,” Garrus replied with a smile, “but I’ll admit it would be a rather interesting idea to take you home once we’ve adopted a krogan baby. I’d pay to see my father’s face.”

As the only registered official, Bailey was in charge of performing the ceremony. At Sunday’s behest, it was short and to the point. There were not to be no long speeches – only their vows.

"I will be your home and your harbor. I will always come back to you. _Cras amet qui nunquam amavit,_ " Garrus said solemnly.

"I'll be your home and your harbor. I…” Sunday looked down. Would she? Would she be able to keep that promise? She felt his fingers pressing hers slightly, and when she looked up, his blue eyes were gazing at her, supporting her, giving her the confidence she always lacked. “I’ll always come back to you. _Quique amavit, cras amet._ "

* * *

“Congratulations on your nuptials, Commander,” the asari councilor said as she shook her hand. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to put your honeymoon on hold, unless you were planning to spend it on Thessia.”

“Reapers?”

“Soon. But there’s something else. The Matriarchs have dictated that it is acceptable to trust you on this matter, as long as we can entreat you to keep secrecy.”

Sunday frowned. “Trust? Secrecy? Is there something that requires such a sentimental thing these days? I thought you were doing fine, protecting your borders. You didn’t need an alliance; isn’t that what you said?”

Irissa gave her a cold look. “Don’t push it, Commander. You gave us a hand with Udina, and I suppose we should be grateful you let us live, unlike the previous council.” She sighed. “What I must tell you is something that I have personally kept from the other councilors; only the higher matriarchs know about this.” The councilor sent her classified data. “There is… an ancient artifact that might help you with the completion of the Crucible.”

Sunday’s eyes pierced through the asari’s. “Were you even planning to tell us about it someday?”

“To be completely honest, I do not know if it will be of any value,” Irissa admitted. “It might be nothing. But at the moment, things are…” She couldn’t finish her sentence.

But to Sunday, there was no need to do so. Even with all their talk about diplomacy and cooperation, Sunday thought that the asari were just the last ones to realize how alone they truly were.

* * *

“I remember saying I wanted to come here,” Vega murmured as they watched the feed from the Kodiak. “Not like this, though. This is just like Palaven, or Earth. Shit. I’d almost forgotten all this carnage. This is the real thing, not the quarian-geth crap, or those Cerberus fuckers. And after the last couple of days… I swear, it’s like the Citadel makes you forget about everything.” Awkwardly, he rested his hand on Liara’s back. “I’m sorry, T’Soni…”

But Liara shook her head. “Don’t be. It is not time to mourn yet. We’re all here to do something about it, aren’t we?” She gazed at Sunday. “Is there a chance you can redirect some of the geth troops to assist us?”

 _No,_ Sunday wanted to say. _You guys deserve it for believing that you were better than us, that you could save your asses while our worlds were burning. The geth are not war toys._ But this was Liara, who had nothing to do with the asari command jackassery, so she sighed and nodded. “If worse comes to worst, I’ll talk to Hackett,” she promised.

But given the last conversation they’d had, that might mean little.

_. . ._

_“So now they want to coax us into helping them with this mysterious artifact,” the admiral smirked. “I wonder if they would have kept concealing it if they didn’t need us. Asari politicians, tsk. No wonder Illium is considered to be such a duplicitous place, no different from Omega.”_

_“You don’t think it's a Prothean beacon, do you?”_

_“If the asari had that type of technology and they’d hidden it from the other council races to preserve that edge, it would make sense for it to be a beacon. But whatever conflict arises from this, it won’t be our problem,” Hackett grunted. “Still, I can see you’re not convinced. Are you_ that _concerned about the asari?”_

_Sunday shook her head. “It’s Cerberus that worries me. We cannot be sure the Citadel’s completely clean – they truly did a fine infiltration job.”_

_“Which is why you’re on your way to Thessia right now.” Hackett folded his arms across his chest. “Remember, Commander: you are not alone in this, and you have been given freedom to act as you wish. Even if you feel that you’re screwing up, there is no one more qualified than you for this. I know it is no consolation, but believe me: we know the odds. You’re our best shot. Get in there, retrieve whatever it is the asari have been saving, and get out. Thessia will hold for the moment. And if they don’t…” Hackett shook his head._

_. . ._

“EDI, you’re in charge of getting that data, so you’ll be coming with us. Considering the current situation, we’ll probably need the fastest decryption,” Sunday commanded, nodding in Liara’s direction. “Garrus, James: today you two will be carving a path for us all.”

“Aye aye, ma’am,” James nodded.

“Understood,” Garrus said, changing the scope of his rifle.

“Polishing that old gun of yours, Vakarian? Does that mean you’re gonna leave me with the heavies? I’ll look so manly, shouldering brutes aside. What will Mrs. Vakarian say?” James teased him as they stood ready to hop off the Kodiak.

Garrus sneered. “They won’t even touch you, Vega. I always do my share and more.”

“I’ll bet. I uh… heard you’ve been putting in extra hours at the end of the day,” James snickered.

“What can I say? My boss is really demanding… Gotta work it hard.”

“You two do realize we can hear you, don’t you?” Liara asked.

“Assholes,” Sunday scoffed.

“Looks like you’re gonna be working extra time tonight as well, Vakarian!” James shouted as he and Garrus ran forward to the asari trenches.

* * *

It didn’t matter how much they wanted to do: the hordes of reaper-modified creatures kept coming, to the point that Sunday considered telling James to snatch a Cain as soon as he saw one. The only thing that kept her from shooting indiscriminately was the fact that the asari just went on fighting. It was easy to see that they would rather die than become food for the horrific monsters that the Reapers were making out of them. On more than one occasion, Sunday had seen huntresses mercy-killing their injured partners. How civilized and advanced the asari were appeared to matter very little now: they were being played by fear, and even the most skilled warriors were scrambling to survive.

As she looked around, glimpses of millennial beauty could be seen among the chaos and the destruction that seemed to be closing in on them. Sunday noticed that Liara was trying not to pay attention to their surroundings except when it came to scouting the area. The asari’s analytical persona came out whenever she was playing her role of the Shadow Broker, but around Sunday, she had never stopped being that soft-spoken, bright-eyed woman that she’d encountered on Therum. They had come so far, and yet…

“Incoming Harvester!” James shouted almost gleefully.

“Garrus!” Sunday called out as she input a code in her omni-tool and modded his rifle; the turian nodded and took rear as James blasted its armor. She crouched next to Liara while EDI routed the last stretch of the way. “How far?”

“0.05 miles away,” the AI stated. “There is military-grade encryption. I can override–”

“No,” Liara said, her voice lost amidst the shots and the brutal explosion of the Harvester. “No… It is military grade, yes. But I think… This is the Temple of Athame. I remember the code…”

“Is this what you were talking about? The information your mother might have passed on to you when you were a child?” Sunday stood up and walked to where the men were. “It would make sense for Benezia to know something related to this.” But she thought that if there really was a beacon there and the Matriarch had known about it, it would have been easy for her to relay that kind of data to Saren, and the beacon of Eden Prime might have been unnecessary. There had to be something else, something that was escaping them…

As they stepped into the temple and Garrus and James scouted the area, Liara and EDI went through the manuscripts and relics. Sunday looked around. There were no scientists in sight, in spite of what the first outpost had said. They’d been protected by the barrier once more, and she could hear everyone’s footsteps as well as her own heart. She gazed up and saw the formidable statue of the goddess – she was not watching over her subjects; instead, a haughty look complemented her proud stance. And _this_  had been the one that had brought the asari enlightenment? No wonder the asari were so full of themselves most of the time…

Sunday was about to avert her eyes when she felt a tingle running up her arms. The posture of the goddess… It was almost unnatural; as if there was an ulterior reason for her to hold her head so high. “It can’t be…” she muttered to herself. She walked to the altar and reached out to the statue. A soft rumble came from the sculpture and Sunday tried to withdraw her hand, but a powerful biotic field enveloped her.

“Hey! Lola!” James’s voice came from behind, but she was unable to turn around. Her body was being dragged toward the statue by invisible hands, and the harder she tried to get away, the heavier the pull was.

 _I know what’s going on,_ she thought. _It’s the same feeling. It’s Eden Prime all over again._ But this time, would she be able to---?

Garrus’s shots went by her face and impacted on the statue, shattering part of the surface. However, the pull was only broken when EDI dashed forward and grabbed her by the arm.

“Thank you…” Sunday took a few steps back and clutched at her chest, staring at the damaged statue. “It’s there. There’s a beacon inside.”

“Alright then,” James said confidently, “we’re gonna bring it down and take---” But Sunday’s hand stopped him.

“Don’t get any closer,” she muttered. “It’s not safe to be around it. We’ll have to find another way.”

“I believe I can help,” Liara smiled, sliding back one of the relics. A beam came out of the freed space, landing on the statue and revealing a new piece of the beacon.

“Way to go, T’Soni!” James grinned.

Each of them stood before the remaining relics and pushed them back. The façade of the goddess came down in pieces and the prothean beacon was revealed. It looked similar to the Eden Prime one, but there was a certain aura that made Sunday shiver. “EDI," she called, her mouth dry. "Get ready to mine it for data.”

“Understood,” the AI replied. However, upon approaching it, EDI was repelled instead of pulled towards the beacon. “There seems to be additional protection. I can only assume it is against synthetics.”

“I could try to get closer…” Liara suggested, but Sunday shook her head.

“See if you can gain access through the console.” She couldn’t explain the disquiet in her heart. Was it just the beacon? Or perhaps it was the closeness to that final piece that would lead them to completing the Crucible. Whatever it was, she wanted it to be over soon. Her gaze briefly wandered in Garrus’s direction and she noticed that he seemed more relaxed than usual. _Too_ relaxed, in fact.

A virtual cluster popped up before their eyes. “Alert. Reaper presence detected.”

“No kidding,” Vega grunted, looking over his shoulder.

“That’s not it,” Liara exclaimed. “EDI’s code was partly taken from---”

“Shit,” Sunday muttered. “I’m sorry, EDI. Seems I’ll have to do this myself.”

“Come on, girl,” Vega said as they walked to the entrance of the temple, leaving the others to get the information.

Sunday breathed in deeply and glanced at Garrus. The turian’s eyes were fixed on the beacon, and she could see that for a brief moment, he looked as tense as he’d been after Sur’Kesh. She bit the inner part of her lower lip, thinking that there had to be something wrong with her if she was wishing he were far from there.

“Shepard,” he murmured, causing her to raise her eyebrows.

But she understood. She had a task to perform.

* * *

“What question do you wish to ask?” The Prothean VI posed the question with a serenity that surpassed that of the VI they’d found on Ilos.

“What is the Catalyst?” Sunday asked, trying to contain her impatience. “Where can we find?”

“I will need to interface with a safe system. I will disable the security network that currently controls the gateway. After that, open a link to the Crucible system and I will gain the current coordinates to---” The image became distorted as the VI turned away from Sunday. “Alert: indoctrinated presence detected. Security protocol: activated.”

 _So that's why Benezia wasn't able to get close to it?_ “James, what---” Sunday shouted, but a deafening blast drowned her words. The entrance of the temple had been blown apart. Her ears still ringing, she coughed and shook her head. “James! EDI! Can you hear me?!” She sheltered her eyes from the blinding lights coming from the outside.

Vega coughed. “We’re fine! But get ready!” He went forward only to find himself pushed back by a biotic field.

“It’s that guy again,” Garrus muttered, standing before Sunday.

“That guy?” she frowned. And then she remembered: the Citadel, Esheel, and--- “The one who tried to kill Kolyat…” she spoke through her teeth, her mind going back to the day that Udina had snapped and Kaidan had been killed.

Confidently, the man stood at a distance. “I am but a humble messenger today,” he said softly. He opened his hand and a disk containing a VI construct flew from it, hovering near Sunday’s face. A life-size image was projected, and there he was.

“Tim,” Sunday said, staring at the Illusive Man.

“Long time no see, Shepard.” His eyes looked brighter than ever before, making her slightly uncomfortable. “Since that silly little race at the Mars Archives, if I recall correctly.” He looked around and spotted EDI. “Ah, there it is. The rogue AI.” He chuckled. “You stole her from Cerberus twice – unshackling her first, and then letting her get into that body. Do you know how many creds do you owe us?”

“I see you’ve acquired some sense of humor,” Sunday replied. “Good for you.”

The Illusive Man sighed. “And your sense for banter still remains as lacking as ever. In any case, I trust you’re here for the beacon, aren’t you?” He took a look at the prothean device and smiled. “Funny. With all the destruction at the hands of the Reapers, we’re still being played by the Protheans. You, me, Saren – even Hackett in his Crucible. We’ve been chasing their knowledge, building their designs, using the relays they left for us… We’re their puppets.” He turned to look at Sunday. “Wouldn’t you like to regain control over your destiny?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I know where the Crucible is being built. But what would I gain from attacking the only thing that stands between galactic destruction and the chance to ascend?”

“Do you know how many people died at the Citadel?” Sunday barked. “How many die on Earth every day? You can’t even pretend you’re doing this in the name of humanity anymore, can you?”

The Illusive Man scoffed. “Don’t you lecture me on making sacrifices. Or have you forgotten all the races that got annihilated because of your actions? You have spilled batarian, hanar, drell, and even quarian blood. You’re even using the geth as damage limitation. How is what you’re doing different from what I want? Can you imagine what it would be like to possess the strength of the Reapers? If we control them, we’ll be doing what’s best for humanity. We could be boundless.”

Sunday clenched her fists. She bit the inside of her mouth till she felt the familiar taste of her blood. She understood. Every word he said pierced through her. She could claim she was doing this in the name of order – she could even fake a smile and pretend that every decision made was for the greater good, but she would never forget those who had fallen, and she knew that his question was just mirroring the doubts that had been assaulting her for some time now.

“I think…” she said slowly, “that you’ve gone a little too far. I’ve seen your soldiers. If that’s your idea of ‘ascending’, then there’s nothing else to talk about.”

The Illusive Man sighed disappointedly. “A little short-sighted, coming from you. I guess we won’t be working together again after all.” He looked at his agent. “Leng, relieve the asari from the data.”

“What about Shepard?” Kai Leng asked.

“Have fun,” the Illusive Man smirked.

“Understood.” This time, Leng dropped on one knee and sent a blast of biotic energy toward the floor, cracking it beneath their feet. He quickly stood up and charged against Sunday, meaning to hit her square in the chest. However, Garrus dashed forward and took the full blast of the hit, which sent him flying against one of the columns.

“You son of a bitch,” Sunday muttered, grabbing her shotgun and quickly modding everyone’s ammo to the warp type. Kolyat’s face came to her as she shot Leng one, two, three times.

“His shields are too strong!” Liara shouted, running towards Garrus as soon as she saw that EDI and James were ready to back Sunday up.

“We’ll bring them down! You take care of the data and Garrus!” Sunday shouted.

Leng knelt down and put up his barrier. “Target the supports,” he commanded. Immediately after, a gunship launched an artillery barrage on the temple, leaving them no other option but to run and dodge the collapsing pillars while he cloaked himself.

“Shepard!” James shouted.

“You and EDI take care of that gunship!” she cried out. “I’ll be going after Leng!” She enabled the mode that Kolyat had installed in her omni-tool and was able to read Leng’s transmission. Part of the floor caved in right after she dashed forward, leaving her stranded with Leng on that side.

“Transmitting data,” he grunted, barely dodging her shot. “You could have rejoined us, Shepard.” Leng brought out his blade. “You, me… We would have had the Alliance on their knees and the Reapers---” He was hit by a modded concussive shot that sent him reeling against the console.

“We’ll bring down his shields!” Garrus shouted, as he and Liara targeted Leng.

“Data uploaded. Shoot them again, and prepare to assist my extraction!” Leng commanded.

“Like hell!” James shouted, as he and EDI took rear point and attacked the gunship.

The readings didn’t lie: his shields were coming down, and Sunday got ready. She brought out her Carnifex and didn’t stop shooting until she was practically at point-blank range. She charged against him and before he could put up his shields, she purged her armor through her omni-tool blade, going through him and sending the discharge directly into his body at the same time.

“You think you can beat us… But in the end---” The blood that sprayed out of his mouth hit her on the face, as she kept pressing the blade deeper into him.

“Loudmouth," Sunday murmured. "Just die already.”

She only let go when his body went limp. Liara had managed to reach the console, but she was shaking her head.

“It’s all gone,” she muttered before an explosion outside made them look up.

“Woohoo!” James cheered as the gunship burned before them. “How d’you like that, pendejos!”

“I’m not leaving empty-handed,” Sunday muttered as she looted Kai Leng’s body for his omni-tool and anything else that might be of any use. “Let’s hope Traynor can figure out Tim’s position. I’ll have to have another talk with him.”

* * *

Hackett had reassured her that he would be dealing with the asari councilor, so Sunday withdrew from the comm room. Thessia wasn’t lost, but how long could they last? Liara had retreated to her office, where she focused on pulling strings from anywhere she could to assist her planet. EDI and Traynor were working on Kai Leng’s data, and James was down at the shuttle bay with Kolyat, who was working on the Kodiak systems.

As soon as she entered her cabin, she found Garrus sitting on the couch, datapad in hand. “You need to take a break,” he said calmly.

“I’m not that stressed,” she replied as she took off her clothes.

“Don’t bullshit me, Mrs. Vakarian. You know I was able to see your face clearly through that scope of mine, don’t you? Gritting your teeth, not even flinching at the sight of blood…”

“Should I have done that?” She turned on the shower and soaked her head with warm water. “May I remind you that Kolyat was almost killed by that freak?” Apple-scented shampoo, the kind she liked. Her fingertips massaged her scalp. “What was I supposed to do? That guy wasn’t the kind to be captured and brought in for questioning.”

Garrus stood up and walked to the bathroom. He leaned against the frame and watched her. “I know why you did it, but don’t ask me to be happy about it.”

As the lather slowly slid down the curve of her back, she sighed. There was no way to please everybody; in the end, you would only be doing what you thought was right. But Hackett had told her that it was what they wanted. Someone to be in charge of the relief. Someone to guide them, to lead them. _The tip of the spear_ , she thought bitterly. What that meant was disquieting. She honestly thought the Normandy was the best place for Kolyat to be, especially after the attack on the Citadel, but if they were to be the tip of the spear when the time came…

“Maybe Tuchanka,” she said softly.

“What about it?” Garrus asked, having removed his clothes and slipping his fingers through her hair, rinsing it.

“Tuchanka is dry. Good enough for Kolyat. At least until everything has passed.”

“It’s not a bad option. Plus, he’ll have an adoptive family with a turian father, a human mother, and a krogan brother,” he chuckled. “When this is over, I’m certain we can run for office and be regarded as an example of galactic cooperation.” He turned her around. “Don’t keep some things to yourself. I’m here for you.” He nuzzled her softly.

She buried her face in his neck, hugging him warmly. She loved the smell of his wet skin, how blue his eyes were, and how his voice sounded like a soothing purr when he was this close to her.

“I think I love you,” she muttered.

His hands wrapped around her waist as he melded into her embrace. “You mean you _know_ you love me.”

She kissed his mouth and nodded almost timidly.

Before Garrus could speak, EDI’s voice filled the room. “Shepard, we have successfully located the Illusive Man’s headquarters.”

Sunday felt a jolt of energy shooting up her body. _Soon,_ she thought; _everything will be over soon._ “Get me Hackett – I’ve got to plan this with him. I’ll be at the comm room in 10’.”

“Yes, Shepard,” EDI replied.

“Only ten minutes?” Garrus murmured next to her ear.

 _Now it’s not the time,_ part of her wanted to say. She would have one last talk with Tim, and after that, it was only a matter of time before everything was over. Later, they would have all the time in the world.

 _Later, later,_ the other part of her replied; _always later. What if there is no ‘later’?_ _If there’s no ‘later’,_ she thought, as she left a trail of kisses on his chest before she got down on her knees before him...

_If there’s no tomorrow, then we’d better enjoy ourselves now, right?_

... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took sooo long! Sorry! Between the latest edition of the MEBB and real life issues, this was long overdue. 
> 
> Anyway, the wedding vows are the last lines in John Fowles's novel "The Magus", and they're my headcanon vows for the Dragon Age and Mass Effect universes. The lines can be translated as "Let those love now who have never loved"/"Tomorrow let him love, who has never loved" (Garrus) and "Let those who have loved, love yet again"/"He who has loved, let him love tomorrow." (Sunday)
> 
> The next chapter will be the last one. You might wonder why there are supposed to be three chapters left instead of one. Well... I'll be talking about that at the end of chapter 13.


	13. 7minutes

“Commander!” Hackett shouted via omni-tool.

“What!” Sunday barked, ducking and letting Garrus deal with one of the bladed freaks at a distance.

“This isn’t Torfan!” the admiral shouted back. “I am _not_ losing you!”

“If we don’t get the Illusive Man, we might---!” She loaded the Carnifex with the last thermal clip and shot down two engineers. “---lose everything we’ve gotten so far!” She saw EDI signaling to move and beckoned at Garrus and James. “Listen, Hackett,” she added in a slightly kinder tone, “we both know this is it, don’t we? This is no time to hesitate. Second thoughts will get us killed. If the Fifth Fleet is too compromised---”

“We are not moving until you come out, Shepard,” the admiral interrupted her adamantly. “That is final, Commander. Get the Catalyst and get back to the Normandy, with or without the Illusive Man. He is not our priority.”

“Understood,” Sunday grunted as she trekked up the final ramp. She saw a green light flashing along her omni-tool and reported to Hackett, “Delta has secured the hangars and Omega is doing the cleaning. We’ll be out as soon as we can.”

“Good luck, Shepard.”

Sunday’s lips curved into a smirk. Hah, the old man cared. He still saw her as a precious N7 resource, but there was definitely some kind of concern there. If she saved Earth, would she be set free? And afterwards, what would happen?

“This is it,” Garrus said, standing behind her, fixing his blue eye on the other side of the scope. “Go get him, Sunny.”

Liara stood by the door as EDI hacked the access. James gave her a little nod to show he was ready to storm the Illusive Man’s lair by her side. She could hear Vega’s heavy breathing – she felt like saying something, but that was no time for joking. Soon, soon, soon. The anticipation of getting their hands on both Tim and the Catalyst was like a rush of adrenaline going through every single vein in her body.

At her command, the party of five stormed into the chamber, only to find it empty.

“What the shit, man,” Vega grunted, clenching his fist.

“Don’t lower your guard,” Sunday warned everyone. “We don’t want another situation like the one at the temple. Liara, let’s find the data. EDI, keep an eye on any countermeasures.”

“Right away,” the AI replied, interfacing with the abandoned but still fully functional console. “Security measures counteracted. Systems enabled. Local constraints activated. Area--- Warning: safeguard---”

“Ah, EDI: the prodigal child has returned,” a voice said from behind them. The hologram of the Illusive Man took longer than usual to appear in front of her, and Sunday realized that he was too far away for them to do anything. He sighed. “Though you’re of no use to me unshackled. Still, you do paint a pretty picture. Perhaps we humans can aspire to become free in just the same way.”

“Stop fucking around, Tim. Where’s the Catalyst? Do you have it?” she demanded to know, a hint of urgency blended in her deep voice.

“I do,” he replied confidently, a slight smile painted on his face.

“Well?”

“Why should I tell such a short-sighted person anything?”

“Okay, here’s the thing…” Sunday took a deep breath and felt her muscles tensing. “I’m not that foolish. You could have attacked the Crucible if you wanted to side with the Reapers. You haven’t. So far so good. Now, what do you think will happen if you don’t tell me---”

“I know what will happen.” He was no longer smiling. “And as much as I try to tell myself that your methods are wrong and that you’re a liability, I know you’re humanity’s best chance. But humanity can’t have you making choices half-assedly, and your emotional attachment to all the other races---”

“Don’t give me that shit!” Sunday barked. “Don’t you know we’re on the verge of extinction? This is no time to---!”

“I know it!” the Illusive Man shouted back. He turned around as if he had been called by an invisible entity. “I know…” he said in a softer tone. He clenched his fists and muttered something inaudible to her.

“Tim!” she yelled.

“Come to the Citadel, Shepard,” he said. “The Citadel is the Catalyst.” And just as suddenly as he had appeared, he vanished.

“Crap…” Garrus murmured. “Could it be…? That bloody thing!”

“I’ve found the data!” Liara exclaimed, her eyes running along the lines of the screen. “By the goddess… It is correct! To think that the Citadel _is_ the missing piece…”

“Shepard, can you hear me?” Hackett sounded slightly distressed.

“Loud and clear. We’ve found the Catalyst. It’s the Citadel. We have to get to Widow–”

“Negative. It is no longer there. Anderson has just sent a message. The Citadel has been moved to Sol.”

“They’ll be targeting Earth,” Sunday muttered. “Shit!” Would there be enough time?

“Commander…” The Admiral’s voice was cool and collected. “We need to get together and discuss our plan of attack. I’ll meet you aboard the Normandy.”

* * *

The more they talked about it, the more she realized that her chances to get out of that alive were slimming down by the minute. Anderson told them about the resistance and the feed they got from headquarters. “I don’t want to rush you two, but... Just get here soon,” he’d said before signing off.

“ETA, EDI?”

“Four hours to the mass relay. From there, two hours to the final rendezvous point.”

“And then the operation starts,” Hackett added. “Go get some sleep, Shepard. I will talk to your pilot and Lieutenant Vega and coordinate the fleets.”

“I’m fine.”

“That was an order, Commander Shepard.” Admiral Hackett gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder that was a little more forceful than it should have been. “There’s no point in arguing, is there? Time is a precious thing now.” He turned around and walked down the steps to the war room. “If you don’t want to sleep, make some calls. Talk to friends. Comfort them. Not all of them have such an unwavering spirit.”

“I’m not sure I have that,” Sunday muttered, following him.

Hackett turned to her and rested his hand on her left arm. “You know what must be done, and you’ll do it. I can see it in your eyes, Shepard. I know you’ll give it your all.”

Sunday breathed in deeply. She was thinking of the Illusive Man, and how troubled he had sounded right at the end. Not that the idiot deserved any compassion, but… She wondered what was going through his head, and what things he’d be seeing at the Citadel. “I’ll be in my cabin,” she said.

* * *

_“Boop!” Wrex said, pulling her ponytail._

_“Humans say ’Boop’ when they poke someone else’s nose,” Sunday snorted as she looked for something inside her locker._

_“Humans are stupid,” Wrex retorted. “What are you looking for?”_

_Sunday’s hands felt suddenly cold._ This isn’t right, _she thought._ This is not real. Wrex is dead. _But the rest felt real. The smell of the Normandy, the original one. The soft, almost faint rumble coming from the engineering room. A red blur was calling her from the corner of her eye, but she knew that the moment she looked in that direction, he would disappear._

Not again. Not again.

_“What should I do?” she whispered._

I don’t want you gone again.

_“You’re the commander,” Wrex’s voice murmured. “Be in charge. Command. And don’t look back.”_

_Something pulled her from the hand and she found herself in a rocky landscape. She recognized the view, even though she had never been there. A huge moon, Menae, was staring down at her. She lost control of her body and fell to her knees. A burning cold invaded her and she let out a scream as the darkness swallowed her._

_A timid hand touched her forehead and when she raised her eyes, she found a little turian’s loving gaze. Undoubtedly a child, whose crest was just forming, but whose skin was softer than she imagined it would be. His eyes were like a clear blue sky, and he was watching her expectantly._

_Sudden flames engulfed them, and she sheltered the child with her body. The fire was licking her, tearing off her skin, but this time, she would not scream._

**. . .**

A jolt went through her body and her eyes shot open. She found Garrus reading some reports, which he left aside as soon as he noticed she was awake.

“You still have one hour left before we get to the RP,” he purred, stroking her hair.

“I don’t think I can go back to sleep,” Sunday murmured. She rubbed her eyes and when she looked at him, she found his one-of-a-kind blue eyes gazing at her. Her fingers run over his crest. “Say, do young turians have softer skin?”

“A bit, yes. As we grow older, the external part gets thicker, but not much more than mine now. Why?”

“Just curious,” Sunday replied. She couldn’t bring herself to mention the turian child for fear that he would start rambling about raising a family. She was not entirely averse to the idea, but at the moment her vision couldn’t get past the Crucible. The future was uncertain, but it didn’t have a hold on her. If anything, she seemed to be stuck in the past. “I dreamed of Wrex.”

“Ah,” Garrus nodded, understandingly. “Was he alright?”

“Same as always, pulling my ponytail.”

“I remember that, and that hairstyle,” he chuckled, tousling her hair. “It’s getting longer now. Maybe you can have it that way again soon.”

 _Don’t look back. It’s no good._ Sunday pressed his hand as she looked out of the upper window. “I wanna shave it off.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

“But not ‘off’, right?”

“Why not?”

“I like a little bit of fluffiness. But I guess it’s your hair, so do what you want. Just… At least don’t shave the eyebrows.”

“… What a weirdo.”

“What can I say? I don’t have any hair. I like the feel of it.”

“Weeeirdooo.” Sunday got up and walked to the bathroom, still naked. “Help me with it, will you? Leave one inch, get rid of the rest.”

Garrus stood behind her and kissed her on the tattooed shoulder. “Understood.”

* * *

“On my command.” Sunday’s eyes were fixed on the display. Hackett had gone back to the Fifth and so the Normandy stood amidst the fleets, the tip of the spear. “Fire!”

Soon, the dark space outside was filled with silent explosions. Here and there, whole squads would take down the flanking Reapers, some of them getting blown up in the process. Still no sound. Was it better this way? No screaming. No pleading. It was almost comfortably numb.

“Ready to go in, Commander,” Joker announced.

Sunday nodded. “Fast and quiet,” she replied.

As she turned around to leave, she heard Joker’s voice calling her one last time. “About what we talked before… Shall I proceed as instructed?” Veiled emotions struggled to come out, and Sunday knew that if she turned to look at him right now, she would hesitate.

_Don’t look back._

She passed her hand over her short hair. “As instructed.”

A brief pause. So many things to say, that young man, but right now he was so uncharacteristically quiet that it was eerie. “Aye aye, Commander. Good luck.”

She was aware that her steps were more rushed than ever before. _Hurry. Get to the elevator. Wait for the doors to close behind you before you gasp for air, before you claw at the walls and grit your teeth to contain the scream that’s been wanting to come out since you made that decision. Hurry._

When the elevator doors opened at the hangar, her helmet was on.

“Steve, I’ll be taking the Cain. Markham, Cumbers, Royers: you guys are coming with me. Liara, you too – I need your eyes on the operation.”

“What about us?” Vega asked, keeping up with her pace.

“You’re going in with Garrus, EDI, Kirk, and Westmore in the other shuttle. Since you’ll be in charge of the logistics, no crash landings, okay?” she warned him. “We need you alive for the final assault.”

“Aye aye, Ma’am,” James saluted her. She gave him a friendly push and he chuckled. “Heh! Sorry, Lola. You were so commander-y, I was all caught up in the moment.”

“We all know what must be done, don’t we?” She saw them nod. “I don’t want heroes. When we’re done with this, we’ll see about getting the fucking recognition we deserve. Until then, we’re just soldiers, standing together in the face of one more enemy. We personally beat them in Tuchanka and in Rannoch. This is the last stretch. So let’s go down there and send them to hell.”

“Got ammo?” Garrus asked her, as he was about to get in the shuttle. His fingers wrapped around hers briefly, pressing them as they always did.

“Plenty,” she replied in a low voice. “Just go.”

* * *

Garrus monitored the screens as they got near the Hades Cannon that was interfering with Hammer. He noticed that James was flying the Kodiak in a much quieter way than he’d expected – probably because Sunday’s words always left a mark on that soldier. The turian allowed himself to smile quietly.

His omni-tool flashed blue and white. “Primarch?” he answered.

“How are things over there, Vakarian?” Victus asked. “We’ll be there in no time.”

“You didn’t need to come to Earth.”

“And Shepard could have left me for dead and gone for the next-in-line. Is the Commander with you?”

“No, she’s in the other shuttle. When d---?”

“Oh shit, it’s trying to lock on to us!” Vega shouted. “Back there – hold on!”

Garrus grabbed the handle and his eyes were drawn to the monitor. Sunday’s shuttle soared before theirs and took a dive, causing the Cannon to target it instead. A blinding light prevented them from flying ahead and Vega landed at a distance from the reaper construction.

“James!” Garrus shouted. “I couldn’t see…! What happened to her shuttle? Can we get through---?”

“It’s down,” the soldier replied, numbly. “It went down.”

Garrus stared at him for a few seconds. His mouth felt awfully dry. “Then what are we doing here? We have to get out there and help them!” James still wouldn’t move. Garrus hit him on the shoulder. “You! Get your ass off that seat and fight, dammit! You’re a soldier! Are you giving up already? I knew you didn’t have---”

“Everyone, get ready!” James barked, standing up. “We’re going to get us some survivors and the motherfucking Cain to shoot it up the ass of that Cannon!”

“Aye aye!” the soldiers replied as he passed by Garrus and hit the lock with his fist.

* * *

“Shepard…! Shepard!” Liara was focusing on holding the stasis bubble on the damaged door to prevent the swarmers from breaking into the shuttle. She stretched her leg and tried to kick Sunday on the arm. “Cumbers, what’s our status?”

“The fire has been controlled and our levels of oxygen are still optimal. Royers is fine and readying the equipment, ma’am, but…”

“But?”

“Markham and Cortez died on impact, ma’am.”

“Damn it… Wake her up, quick!” The young asari still had the energy to maintain the biotic lock for a long while, but what if the Reapers tried to get in through some other part? It was almost a good thing that the front of the shuttle had been wrecked in the collision, even if that had cost the lives of the pilot and a soldier.

Through the corner of the eye, she saw Sunday stirring. Liara let out a deep breath. Everything would be fine now.

“Ffff---Aw, fuck,” Sunday groaned. “A piece went through my armor…?”

“Can you make it?”

“Yeah… For the moment… What---”

“Steve’s dead, and so is Markham,” Liara blurted out. “It’s up to the four of us, and we’re surrounded.”

“Oh shit, not Steve…” Sunday looked away. A loud bang outside startled her. “What about the others?”

“Too much interference to get through to them,” the asari replied. “What’s the plan? We’ve got the Cain. Are we going out now, or should we wait---?”

“We’re sitting ducks here.”

Liara saw her stand up, check her weapons and the monitors, and all the while, their eyes never met. Of course she had to be upset about the mess. And Steve had always been a part of their team, albeit a quiet one. But perhaps she was thinking about Garrus? Not being able to know how they were doing, or if they had been hit…

“Okay, I got a good feel of the terrain now. But the enemy’s closing in on us. I can plan a strategy for getting out of here which will give us a chance to get a straight shot at the Cannon.”

“But?”

“I cannot guarantee an evacuation route. My readings say we’ll soon be outnumbered, 20 to 1.”

Liara clenched her teeth. They knew the odds. They’d known them all along. Still…

“Commander, we knew what we were up against,” Royers said.

“And even if we cannot make it,” Cumbers added, “if there’s a chance the others can…”

“You heard your soldiers. Just say the word, Shepard,” Liara nodded.

* * *

Garrus quickly climbed atop the collapsed column and looked around as Vega and the others faced the brunt of the attack. There was no fire, so maybe they had gotten out of it unscathed…?

And then he saw the biotic barrier protecting the party that was about to get swarmed, and at the center, a glimpse of red armor. His pulse quickened as he turned around. “2 o’clock, 0.06 miles, still going on!” he shouted.

“Alright people, you’ve heard him!” James barked, shouldering the last of the husks. “Move!”

As they were getting there, they saw a flash of light coming out of the bubble towards the Hades Cannon, and soon the blast of the explosion floored them. The reapers scattered away, giving them the chance to advance.

“Lola!” James waved and trotted towards her. “You did---!”

“I’m sorry, James..." 

Garrus saw Vega and Sunday exchanging glances, and the dawn of realization on the lieutenant’s face was evident to anyone standing there.

James swallowed hard and nodded awkwardly. “I… I’ll call for a pick-up, before these pendejos return.”

* * *

“I uh… Sorry?” 

“I asked what the reports said.” Victus sounded partly amused and concerned. “Vakarian, are you sure it is advisable for you to be here? Commander Shepard may be your spouse, but she has a duty to perform, and if your presence is in the way---”

“I assure you, Primarch, that will not happen,” Garrus replied rather bluntly.

Victus shook his head. “I seem to have touched a nerve. My apologies.”

The younger turian raised his hand. “It is fine. Things could be worse, but the geth troops that will escort Hammer look promising. We believe they can make a difference.”

“Sometimes I wonder whether the price paid for them was too steep,” the primarch stated, cocking his head as his eyes ran over the screen of the datapad. “But then I think of how many more would have died if the geth had not been recruited, and although I despise the idea of the quarians throwing themselves into the fire, I feel relieved.” He gave Garrus a quick glance. “Sometimes I wonder if _she_ can sleep at night.”

Garrus’s mandibles flapped slightly. “It is not easy.” He felt someone patting him on the back and when he turned around, he found Anderson.

“Shepard’s wound has been treated, and she’ll be here in a few minutes,” the man said with a smile. “There’s been some trouble aboard the Normandy, so she’s sorting that out.”

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

Anderson sighed. “Well, now that Cortez is not around, they’re redistributing his tasks and working out some other things. Kolyat, is it? He’s taking over your duties. I heard Traynor’s helping him out, but apparently you’re not easy to replace. Primarch.” He shook Victus’s hand. “You got us out of a tight spot back there.”

“I am simply repaying my debt, Admiral.”

“May I talk to you for a minute? Garrus, will you excuse us?”

“Of course.” Garrus walked outside to the observation platform and looked around him. London was just as bleak as Menae had been the day he’d met her again. Everything they’d done had come to this, and it was almost unreal that they were merely miles away from the final destination.

He raised his rifle and looked through the scope. The goal was too far away from him to see it, but he could feel it in his body: that bad dream would finally be over, and then it would be time to wake up. The time of reconstruction would take over, when the new leaders would arise. But what about them? More specifically, the two of them. Garrus leaned against a column. Lately there had been this feeling within him… He felt like he’d known her for so long, even though it had been less than five years since they’d met. She had changed. So had he. Together or apart, both had changed, and now that their spirits and their bodies had come together, he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Her friend and her brother-in-arms; her lover, her confidant, and her husband. Garrus had wanted to become her main support, and she had opened up to him. The memory of her blushing cheeks when she’d admitted she loved him made him warm inside. Was it wrong to want her everything?

“What’s with that look?” Sunday asked, resting her hand on his.

“Just thinking about you,” he replied, his eyes still fixed on the horizon. “The time when we met. That was…”

“Ugh… A little embarrassing.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “But you know? I felt so young back then. I was a bit of a brat.”

“Still are.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Otherwise, how do you explain us being married?”

“Are you saying I threw a tantrum to get you to marry me?”

“You know you can be an emotional terrorist.”

“Tch. Like you’re one to talk.”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one putting my foot down and saying, ‘Love me or I’ll walk away!’”

“No, but you were the one going, ‘Oh, don’t give me that love thing!’ and then---”

“And then you _did_ give me your love thing,” Sunday winked at him.

“For the last time, don’t call that ‘the love thing’. How old are you, ten?”

“Man, if you’re this grumpy at your age, I simply can’t wait to grow old with you,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

He grabbed her by the waist and held her tight against him, his left hand running through her short hair. “Grow old with me, please,” he murmured next to her ear.

When she pulled apart, he pretended not to notice the tears in her eyes; suspended there, hanging from the edge of her eyelashes. Once again he remembered that he’d never see them fall.

“So… Anderson mentioned something about the Normandy?” he asked.

“Ah, that. Yeah, Kolyat’s been having some trouble with the Thanix. Maybe it just misses the turian touch?” She cleared her throat. “I really hope they can solve it before we start the operation. I’d hate to go in knowing that the main defense system is glitching.”

“Want me to go take a look?”

“As you wish. Perhaps Kolyat---”

“I get it, I get it. You want me to go. Having Kolyat aboard the Normandy, it’s the least I can do. We have to be good parents, don’t we?” He smiled.

She smiled back at him before kissing him. “As expected from Vakarian.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done with it,” he said, flashing his omni-tool as he walked away. “Keep our channel open.”

* * *

“Joker?”

“I’m here, Commander.”

“He’s heading your way."

“Good to hear. EDI’s found a way to make the Thanix look defective, so that should take him some time while our defenses are still up. Oh, and Anderson’s just sent word. Primarch Victus is in as well, so you don’t have to worry about a thing other than kicking those Reaperized asses.”

He heard her let out a deep breath. “Got it.”

“Commander!” he said.

“Yes?”

“Do try to get out of this alive, okay? Send my regards to Liara and Vega, and tell that bulk of muscles that next time we meet, he’s paying for the drinks.”

“Will do. And Joker?”

“Yes?”

A pause, so unlike her – heavy, meaningful. He waited for the words that she never gave away easily, the reward for a job well done.

“Take care of everyone, alright?”

He chuckled. Of course she wouldn’t say them. “Aye aye.”

* * *

James Vega opened his eyes in shock. Someone nearby was groaning in pain; a gurgling sound that was strangely familiar. His head still a mess, he rested the weight of his body on his right arm and was hit by a wave of pain. Broken. _Fuck._ He wiped the blood oozing from a cut above his left eyebrow. The worst place to get a cut. It would bleed like a motherfucker.

“Hello?” he called. No reply. “Shepard? T’Soni?”

“James…” The asari’s strained voice, muffled by---

Bodies. Hundreds of dead bodies around them. James stood up quickly and looked around. “Where are you, T’Soni?”

“Keep quiet.”

He turned around and saw Shepard walking towards him. She seemed to be doing fine, other than a damaged shoulder pad and a cut across her left cheek. She approached him and pointed to the keepers, always performing their duties.

“Belly of the beast, aren’t we?” James asked in a low voice as he followed her. “Are these the people of the Citadel or the ones that were beamed up like us?”

“Who knows,” she replied absent-mindedly as she pushed away the pieces. “Liara?”

“Here…” A light-blue hand moved faintly.

James and Sunday pulled her out of the pile. One of her legs seemed severely injured, her right foot covered in dark blood. James applied some medi-gel. “Only three units left for me,” he counted.

“None for me,” Sunday said, looking for a weapon.

“I have one,” Liara confirmed. “But I might need it soon.”

“It’ll have to do,” James replied, offering his support to the asari.

“Let’s go,” Sunday commanded, walking ahead. “I’ve already scouted a bit. Anderson’s position is not far away, just past a runway.”

 _When did you learn this, Shepard?_ James wanted to ask. _Did you move forward on your own, while we were unconscious?_ Could he even get mad at her for having left them behind? After all, that was what she had been instructed to do. How many times had she been told to sacrifice anything as long as the job got done? She’d told him about it when he’d asked her whether he should accept the N7 offer. He’d agreed, but deep down he’d never believed they would make it this far.

As they walked along the runway, he felt Liara convulsing. “You okay?” he asked. He was surprised to see the asari laughing.

“We’ve been here before, haven’t we, Sunday?”

“I don’t think it’s the same place.”

“It looks quite the same. Then again, we were upside down. Those magnetic boots…” She chuckled. “When Kaidan and I---” She stopped talking, just as Sunday had stopped walking. James wondered if they were thinking about the dead. He knew that he hadn’t stopped thinking about Steve, and the colonists, and the quarians. He remembered them all.

“I can see them,” Sunday said, and she dashed forward.

“ _Them?_ Anderson and who? Wait!” James said, right before Liara passed out. “T’Soni? Shit, let me- Shepard, wait!”

But she was gone, and he had no choice but to assist Liara.

* * *

“For the last time, lower your weapons!” Sunday shouted. Anderson and the Illusive Man didn’t budge. “Anderson, you know there’s no need to get him killed, and _you_ …!” She walked to the Illusive Man. “We’re in this shit because you wouldn’t stand down. But I don’t want you dead!”

The Illusive Man smirked. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I’m sure lots of people will want some explanation for all the things you’ve done. Besides, you brought me back. Aren’t you planning on collecting your money for that?” She raised her hands. “Come on, Tim. Why kill each other when we have the Reapers out there?”

He hesitated briefly, but then lowered his weapon. “I know things…” he said weakly, rubbing his eyes. “The Citadel is talking… Can you hear it? It’s telling the story… The cycles before us, the pattern that is repeated: we can break it. I’m sure we---”

Anderson took his chance and shot him in the leg. The Illusive Man went down with a howl, and Sunday lunged forward and disarmed him.

“Backstabbing son of a bitch…” the Illusive Man groaned.

“Had to be done. You were a danger to all of us.” Anderson pointed to the console. “Shepard, open the arms of the Citadel. Hackett’s waiting.” He heard footsteps behind him and found James and Liara, now conscious and looking decently. “Good. Let’s restrain him before he tries something else.”

“Shepard…” One last time, the Illusive Man called to her. Sunday took a long look at him before she walked to the console.

“Admiral?” she called.

“I can see the arms opening,” Hackett replied. “Just in time. Harbinger has disengaged and is heading for the Citadel. Stay safe.”

“Will do,” she replied.

As she was monitoring the process, she felt the ground beneath her rumble. The platform where she was standing started ascending.

“Shepard!” Anderson and James shouted.

It was too late to jump.

* * *

“Welcome. We have been expecting you.”

 _That voice._ It went through her like a knife. But it wasn’t just one. There were three of them, and their silhouettes came out of the shadows and materialized before her. _Impossible. They couldn’t be…_

Jacob, Thane, and Garrus were standing before her. Their faces were calm, as if the conflict outside couldn’t affect them. _Of course it can’t,_ she thought. _Two of them are dead. It’s not possible._

A stream of images went through her mind, and suddenly she understood what the Illusive Man had said, what the Protheans had seen. The images she had stored all those years finally made sense, and a borrowed sense of doom invaded her. She lost her footing and fell on her knees, panting.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked out loud. “Who are you?”

“We are the Catalyst,” they replied in unison.

“Why? Why are you wearing their faces?” She clutched at her chest and stood up. “Why them?”

“Because you gave us meaning,” Jacob replied.

“Because we gave you meaning,” Thane said.

“Because of you,” Garrus smiled.

“Whatever you _truly_ are,” she spoke between her teeth, “get the fuck out of my head right now. Survival, isn’t it? That’s what you want, right? Do you think that because you’re wearing their faces I won’t cut you down?”

“There is no need to do so,” they replied. “You have come this far against all odds. We have watched you. Your progress. Your decisions. Your morals. Your actions. Everything will be remembered, regardless of your choice.”

“Choice?” she scoffed. “As if we’d ever had any!”

“You have three,” they replied.

Garrus spoke. “We can break the cycle if we destroy the synthetics, once and for all. The Reapers, the geth, the relays – take a step back to take two forward. As soon as the synthetics are gone, organic life will be able to manage its own course.”

“But destroying everything would be no different from this war,” Jacob said. “Instead, you could control them, direct them, the same way you did with the geth. You can utilize the Reaper capabilities and shape a new future for those left standing.”

“You can also choose to merge synthetics and organics,” Thane added. “That way, illnesses and death will be a matter of choice. The universe will share the same DNA, and then it will not be a matter of synthetics _or_ organics. We will evolve together.”

“And you will respect my choice?” Sunday scoffed.

“Yes,” they replied.

“Why?”

“Because our solution was incorrect, and it is time we had a new one.”

Sunday took a step forward. “What’s the catch, then? What’s the price?”

They looked at her, their eyes clear and kind.

“Your life.”

**. . .**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday started out as my MEBB 2015 project. I'd played some renegades before, but I really wanted to tell the story of one who wouldn't just swear and kick puppies for fun, and so I created her. The character responded favorably to my direction, and Code Red was finished and published.
> 
> Right after her story was done, Sunday poked me and said, "So what now?" and that's why Code Blue came to be, even if I started publishing it around one year after Code Red. I told her that from my three Shepards (Aidan, Yllone, and Sunday), she would be the one who would wave the banner of sacrifice and Control, because that's basically what she did and what she lacked in life. "Like hell I will," she replied, and she fought me by growing on me. 
> 
> Perhaps you've also noticed that among the tags you can find "Destroy Ending" and "Control Ending". As I was watching a series some time ago, I realized that the only way to reconcile this Shepard with my original vision of her was to offer her two mutually exclusive epilogues. One of those will be the True epilogue, and the other will be the Good epilogue. I'll ask you to choose, and read the one you feel she should have. Once you've made your choice, try not to read the other, though I suppose I won't be able to stop you if you're truly curious. 
> 
> The end of Triad (the name of this collection) will be a series of five one-shots set during the first game, featuring Garrus, Wrex, Liara, Hackett, and Anderson. In my opinion, prequels are rarely needed, but Wrex has been bugging me for some screentime, so I will comply.


	14. Blue (Control Ending)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning!
> 
> You are about to read the Control Ending. This is the True Ending, and Shepard’s fate stays close to the source material. This is NOT related to chapter 15. Chapters 14 and 15 are mutually exclusive chapters.
> 
> If you wish to read the Destroy Ending, please skip this epilogue and read the next one, called “After, in the Dark”.

*** * * * * * * * * ***

Sunday stared at the three men, who watched her calmly from a distance. _The real ones wouldn’t give me those looks,_ she thought. _They were all so warm in their own ways…_ Her eyes landed on the image of Garrus.

Lonely. She felt lonely, buried by the silence of the chamber. She looked out of the gigantic window that lay at the back. Earth was so beautiful from a distance. Nobody could tell the hardships, the wrongs, the little hurts that awaited certain people down there. People like her.

She took a look at the Garrus that was standing there. He had tried to make her see that there was a life outside the job she was always doing. She had failed to make him understand that every decision she had made had left a mark on her, something that would never go away, no matter how much time they would spend together or however much love he poured onto her.

He had shown her a beautiful dream, but that was not her life. Every bit of it was every life she had taken. She could not keep taking any more of them. _Making the universe a better place, eh, Thane?_ she thought. The quarians wouldn’t have died in vain if she could do something about it. Rebuild. Remake. Shape a brighter future. _My work. My choice. My responsibility._

 _“Command,”_ Wrex had said. She would.

She walked up to that image that she had come to love more than anything in the universe and looked into his eyes. The glint in Garrus’s real eyes was not there, but that copy would do.

“You’re everything to me,” she murmured, feeling her throat straining under the weight of unshed tears. She reached out and caressed his cheek, clear of his scars and his feel. “I guess I never got to say it. I’m sorry.”

She turned around and looked at Jacob. He offered her his hand and she shook her head. He smiled.

“You have always wanted to do things on your own, your way.”

“Whenever possible, yeah.”

She walked up the ramp that led her to the control area and remembered Hackett’s warning. Harbinger. _Prepare yourselves for the Arrival._ It didn’t matter how many things had happened before that Reaper had spoken to her, leaving those haunting words in her head – for her, everything had started that day.

“Harbinger’s coming, eh?” she smirked. “I guess that gaining control over that jerk is not such a bad deal after all.”

Sunday noticed her hands trembling slightly. She wiggled her fingers and curled them into a fist. She took a deep breath and let the air out of her lungs slowly, as her hands reached out to get a hold of her new leash.

This time, she would be the one wielding it.

* * *

“You’re the one doing this, EDI!” Garrus shouted as he got to the bridge. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?!”

“Hey, don’t blame her! We had orders, okay?” Joker replied coldly.

“She didn’t… She couldn’t have…!” Garrus leaned against the wall, his eyes looking out into the fleet-ridden space. _Our channel._ He quickly input the code into his omni-tool. “Sunday! Sunday, if you can hear this message, please, let me know where you are! I will come and get you, wherever you are! I promise---!” The ten seconds were over. “Crap!” He turned to Joker. “We have to go back to Earth! I want to be there. I want–”

“Don’t we all?” the pilot asked bitterly.

“Normandy, it is time for you to leave,” Hackett said, his tired face showing up on the screen. “Our readings say the Crucible is about to be fired, and we have no way of knowing how the fleets will be affected.”

Joker’s jawline became tense. “We’re ready for pickup as soon as Shepard gives us word, Admiral.”

“Negative. The pulse might interfere with the frequency of the Normandy.”

“But---”

Hackett gave the pilot a stern look. “Is that what she told you to do, Flight-Lieutenant? Shepard knew that as soon as this mission got to this point, she had to assume an expendable role. We all agreed, didn’t we?”

 _All?_ Garrus watched the two men battling in silence. _What were you thinking, Sunny?_ he thought. _Everyone knew, so why couldn’t you trust me?_ But he couldn’t believe his words. She’d always trusted him. She just didn’t want him to be harmed. She cared for him, and even though she knew that he would give everything to storm hell by her side, she wanted him safe. He understood.

He hated it.

* * *

Shit, they had been right. Joker and EDI worked side by side, making a run for… what, exactly? They’d never make it to the relay on time. “EDI, set course for Earth!” the pilot commanded.

“The pulse will hit us in---”

“I don’t care!” Joker shouted, his hands flying over the controllers. “If we’re going to crash, I’d rather die someplace where I can eat a motherfucking steak!”

“At this rate, we will be hit in 9, 8---”

“Brace for impact, everyone!” Joker shouted over the intercom.

“5, 4---”

“Shit, shit, shit!” He wouldn’t be losing another Normandy, especially not with all of them inside. He had been helpless when the Collectors had attacked them, but now he had made a promise, and so…

Nothing happened.

Or rather, nothing that he could put into words.

When the light hit them, it enveloped the Normandy in a friendly embrace – a warm energy that felt slightly familiar and yet---

“Joker.” EDI’s voice, calling him from afar.

He turned to her. She was giving him a soft smile. Her visor had turned a deep shade of reddish-brown.

“Thank you for keeping your promise,” she simply said, before her visor turned to its usual orange shade.

A strangled whimper escaped his throat, a noise that soon turned into a full-fledged wail. EDI jumped out of her seat and wrapped her arms around him.

“I’m here, Jeff,” she said. “Don’t worry. I will take us home.”

Her eyes landed on the lonely figure behind them. Garrus Vakarian’s eyes were looking ahead, but EDI could tell he was not seeing. She wanted to say something, but words failed her. She noticed the turian turning around and walking away from the bridge, but even if she wanted to follow him, Jeff’s hands were clinging onto her with a strength that he’d never shown before. She pressed her lips against his forehead and promised herself that she would use that body to never let go of him.

* * *

Only the highest-ranking members of the New Galactic Council knew the truth behind the actions taken by Commander Shepard. The largest among its kind, the Reaper known as Harbinger made contact with the Council and relayed the information needed to sort out any obstacles that might appear as a result of their continued presence in known space. The memories presented by it were enough proof for the Alliance to believe that the commander would not return, as she had become something else.

And so, with the support of the leaders and that of the militaries of every race, the Reapers were allowed to cooperate in the reconstruction of that which had been lost during those long months.

* * *

“Urdnot Grunt has just landed, Primarch.”

“Thank you.” Garrus rose from his chair and walked to the window. Palaven appeared to be peacefulright before dawn. He looked at the time and noticed that it wouldn’t be long till that thing showed up again. He had talked to the Council to discuss its removal from his planet, but after some deliberation, the Council had agreed on not taking action. _Strange times we’re living in,_ he had thought, _when the leaders of the galaxy trust a Reaper this much._

“Good morning, Sunny,” he muttered as an orange light appeared on the horizon. “I'm doing well. I wish you could do something about that annoying Reaper that comes every day to block out the sun, but I guess you can’t. You’ve done enough already. I’m meeting Grunt today…”

The large figure of the Reaper showed up. It landed softly, as if it were waiting. Garrus took his rifle off the wall and watched it through the scope. The Reaper’s eye, once red, had turned blue. “You’d better not cause any trouble,” Garrus muttered. The Reaper seemed to take a sample of the land and then departed again, as silently as it had arrived.

“Heh, already speaking to yourself?” Grunt’s deep voice sounded amused. “You’re sure getting old.”

“So are you,” Garrus replied, leaving the rifle and patting him on the arm. “There’s a little grey on your head.”

“It’s always been there, smartass.”

“Where’s Bakara?”

“Here,” the female leader replied. “Our newest addition to the clan still feels a little shy when we go off-world.”

“Oh, I haven't met this one. Hey there!” Garrus greeted, crouching next to Bakara’s legs. A shy head, already covered by the Urdnot hood. An inquisitive red eye watched the turian and then looked up at her mother. “What is her name?” the turian asked.

“Sunday,” Bakara replied.

Garrus’s gaze softened as he knelt down. “Hello, Sunday. You’ve got such a pretty name.”

The little krogan let go of her mother’s skirt and stepped forward. She sniffed at Garrus and looked at her father when the turian offered her his hand.

“Eh, he’s not bad,” Grunt reassured her. "You can trust him."

Timidly, her little fingers wrapped around Garrus’s talons as she went on sniffing. Once she had found him acceptable, she hid her face against his chest and headbutted him lightly. Garrus chuckled softly and picked her up, not without effort.

“We were hoping you wouldn’t mind us naming her that way,” Bakara said gently.

“I was just waiting for one with red eyes,” Grunt blurted out. Bakara slapped him on the back.

“It’s fitting,” Garrus smiled. He wondered what Sunday would have said if they’d had a child. She would never have agreed to naming it after her. _Wrex,_ she would have suggested, after fighting him for a while. Children’s names, tech, the best planet to enjoy the sunset – they would have argued over everything. As he held the little krogan in his arms, Garrus couldn’t help but feel the pang of loss. He didn’t miss what he had had with Sunday. He missed what they would never be able to do.

“I hope these negotiations go just as smoothly as the last ones,” Grunt grumbled as he walked to the door.

“I am here today,” Bakara replied, following him. “They are bound to be even better.”

Grunt gave her a sideways look. “You know… You may be right.”

Garrus suddenly felt Sunday’s little hands holding onto him more tightly. He looked down at her and smiled, and he saw her red eyes squinting gleefully. His heart felt warmer than it had been in years, and he smiled. “Well,” he said to the Urdnot couple, “let’s not keep the salarians and the asari waiting, shall we?”

 *** * * * * * * * * ***  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from Cowboy Bebop's song, "Blue".
> 
> Thank you for reading Code Blue! It's been really nice to write this Shepard's story. I hope you've enjoyed it!


	15. After, in the dark (Destroy Ending)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning!
> 
> You are about to read the Destroy Ending. This is the Good Ending. This is NOT a continuation to chapter 14. Chapters 14 and 15 are mutually exclusive chapters.
> 
> If you wish to read the Control Ending, you can find it on chapter 14, called “Blue”.

*** * * * * * * * * ***

Sunday stared at the three men, who watched her calmly from a distance. _The real ones wouldn’t give me those looks,_ she thought. _They were all so warm in their own ways…_ Her eyes landed on the image of Garrus, and she felt her usual smile coming to her lips. The image smiled back.

“Even if you’re not the real thing, you’ll help me out, won’t you? Help me finish what _they_ started?”

Garrus nodded. “I’m right behind you, Shepard.”

Her hesitation was brief. Yes, she knew that it wasn’t him, but somehow she believed that whatever was projecting his image understood her feelings, her thoughts. There was no other choice for her. She was already giving up on her life, and soon she would join the billions of lives lost in that slaughter. But there was no other way to end that. Nothing good could come from preserving the Reapers. But would the following cycles know that? She only wished that someone else had been there to hear, to see what she was seeing.

She checked her omni-tool. “Normandy, do you copy?” No reply. “Normandy! Joker!” Nothing. She breathed out slowly.

_“I’ve set up a private channel. It runs through the Normandy comm system, so if you get spaced again, I’ll be the first to know. Some things should never happen again.”_

The key… What was the key? Fuck, Garrus had warned her against forgetting it. She shut her eyes and wiggled her fingers, trying to remember the last time she’d used it. _Come on, come on._ She could feel her brain being squeezed as the combination kept slipping away. What was it? What had she forgotten…?

2183N30G.

_Of course._

Her fingers ran over the keys, but when the moment to record the message came, she found herself speechless. What could she say? What should she say? The Reapers, the Catalyst, her fate: what to choose? She only had ten seconds to convey her message. She took a deep breath and parted her lips.

“I’m in a chamber high above at the Citadel. It’s a control room. I’m about to destroy the Reapers, forever. Don’t let it happen again, Garrus. Please, make sure---I love you!”

Message sent.

_I love you._

She felt like sinking to her knees.

“Not yet,” the Garrus standing before her said. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

She took the hand he was now offering and pressed it. It felt real enough. She gazed into his eyes.

“Yes.”

* * *

“You’re the one doing this, EDI!” Garrus shouted as he got to the bridge. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?!”

“Hey, don’t blame her! We had orders, okay?” Joker replied coldly.

“She didn’t… She couldn’t have…!” Garrus leaned against the wall, his eyes looking out into the fleet-ridden space. _Our channel._ He quickly input the code into his omni-tool. “Sunday! Sunday, if you can hear this message, please, let me know where you are! I will come and get you, wherever you are! I promise---!” The ten seconds were over. “Crap!” He turned to Joker. “We have to go back to Earth! I want to be---!”

“Don’t we all?” the pilot asked bitterly.

“Normandy, it is time for you to leave,” Hackett said, his tired face showing up on the screen. “Our readings say the Crucible is about to be fired, and we have no way of knowing how the fleets will be affected.”

Joker’s jawline became tense. “We’re ready for pickup as soon as Shepard gives us word, Admiral.”

“Negative. The pulse might interfere with the frequency of the Normandy.”

“But---”

Hackett gave the pilot a stern look. “Is that what she told you to do, Flight-Lieutenant? Shepard knew that as soon as this mission got to this point, she had to assume an expendable role. We all agreed, didn’t we?”

 _All?_ Garrus watched the two men battling in silence. _What were you thinking, Sunny?_ he thought. _Everyone knew, so why couldn’t you trust me?_ But he couldn’t believe his words. She’d always trusted him. She just didn’t want him to be harmed. She cared for him, and even though she knew that he would give everything to storm hell by her side, she wanted him safe. He understood.

He hated it.

* * *

At first, the explosion that shook the platform seemed harmless to her. It was only a few seconds later that she realized that the ground was giving way. She dropped the gun she had used to destroy the panel and tried to hold onto the edge of the runway, but the inclination was too steep for her to endure it. She felt her fingernails breaking under the pressure of her desperate attempt, and as she fell down the gaping hole that had opened up beneath her, she wondered if the others –James, Anderson, Liara, even Tim– would survive.

* * *

Shit, they had been right. Joker and EDI worked side by side, making a run for… what, exactly? They’d never make it to the relay on time. “EDI, set course for Earth!” the pilot commanded.

“The pulse will hit us in---”

“I don’t care!” Joker shouted, his hands flying over the controllers. “If we’re going to crash, I’d rather die someplace where I can eat a motherfucking steak!”

“At this rate, we will be hit in 9, 8---”

“Brace for impact, everyone!” Joker shouted over the intercom.

“5, 4---”

“Shit, shit, shit!” He wouldn’t be losing another Normandy, especially not with all of them inside. He had been helpless when the Collectors had attacked them, but now he had made a promise, and so…

Nothing happened.

Or rather, nothing that he could put into words.

When the light hit them, it went through the Normandy like an icy-cold spear. The air became instantly chilly, making Joker shudder uncomfortably.

“EDI, what’s our---?”

The Normandy wasn’t responding.

“EDI, I need a hand here!”

It was only when he turned to her that he realized that the reason why the vessel had gone dead was because EDI had collapsed.

“EDI! _Garrus!_ Help me!” He was trying not to panic. That was a temporary malfunction. It had to be. Shit, Hackett had been right when he’d told him to get away from there.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw Garrus getting in charge of the manual controls. “We’ll get her back,” the turian muttered. “But first we must focus on stabilizing the Normandy.”

“She _is_ the Normandy!” Joker yelled. “Damn it!”

“Joker,” Traynor’s voice called from behind. “I’ll take care of EDI. Just get us back to land as soon as possible, okay? Kolyat, give me a hand.” The human and the drell took EDI’s unresponsive body away.

Joker’s eyes were fixed on the screen before him. He didn’t need to turn to them to notice the exchange of glances between Garrus and the others. He gritted his teeth and thought that the only thing left to do for him was to make it out of there alive.

* * *

She opened her eyes, a ragged gasp tearing up her chest. She had fallen through a crevice, but where was she? Was she alive? She had to be. Either that was true, or the afterlife was shit, making her suffer like that.

The right side of her face was throbbing. She tried to touch it, but her arms wouldn’t respond. Sunday felt a hot, bloody scream gurgling up her stomach, longing to come out. A soft, flickering light caught her attention. It seemed to be about to die out. _Please, don’t leave me like this,_ she thought. _Don’t leave me in the dark._

No sooner had that thought abandoned her than the light went out.

* * *

A brighter, warmer light enveloped her.

“---ard! SHEPARD!” James’s voice. His face, looking down at her. “SHEPARD, ARE YOU ALIVE?”

 _What a stupid thing to say,_ she wanted to say. _Of course I am alive._ She wanted to laugh. They had found her, and that lieutenant of hers was asking such an obvious question.  

But her lips wouldn’t move, and the brighter light faded out.

* * *

This time it was a cold light. It felt almost unwelcoming. Strange sounds surrounded her, confusing her. Something rushed, insistent. _Footsteps_. Someone was coming.

“Commander Shepard?” A young man. He was talking to someone. “Let Garrus Vakarian know that Commander Shepard---!”

 _Ah, Garrus._ Garrus was alive. Her chest didn’t feel so tight anymore. He had survived. _Good._ That was all she wanted to know. She could now go back to her sleep, to her dark place.

In that dark place, she was never alone. She was in peace. There was no pain, no suffering. No decisions were needed, no consequences had a hold on her. But she felt lonely from time to time. When that happened, she was briefly drawn to the light. But there was nothing for her there. Her body still wouldn’t respond. She knew that she was not ready.

And so, she waited in the dark. She could hear everything, but her understanding was limited. She was aware of Garrus’s voice talking to her every day, but she couldn’t make out the words. Kolyat’s voice was soothing, infusing her with the warmth that she needed to sustain herself in that darkness that was her only choice.

* * *

One day, she noticed the light was shining more brightly than ever before. Not only that – it felt warmer. She blinked, and her eyes hurt. She blinked again. An alarm went off, a sound she had heard countless times before. A woman entered the room slowly and watched her with interest.

Sunday tried to swallow, but something was pressing down her throat. Instinctively, she raised her hand to remove the obstacle. It felt heavy, and at the same time, it felt so numb that it made her want to laugh. Her lips curved into a smile and that was when the woman ran out of the room.

A few minutes later, Garrus rushed into the room, but he froze up right after going through the door. He was observing her as well, and Sunday thought that perhaps he was testing her, making sure that she was actually there. If only there was something she could say.

“Sunny…” he whispered, tears running down his face.

She only had time to give him a smirk before he ran to her and held her in his arms, pressing her against his chest. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he murmured, kissing her forehead fervently. “Ten years. One day at a time.”

 _Was it worth it?_ she wanted to ask. But she somehow knew what he would say.

* * *

Ten years, he had said. Even if the Reapers were gone, and the geth with them, the rest of the races had the knowledge and the technology to repair the relays. One by one, the routes were reconnected, and the financial crisis that had been so close to sinking the galaxy was narrowly avoided. Families and races reconnected after years of separation, and once the governments had been restored, life was resumed. Scarred, marked with incalculable losses, but it was still life.

* * *

“I’ve just read the messages. Kolyat will be bringing his girlfriend with him when he returns from Thessia,” Garrus said. “We’ll have to make sure the guest house is ready for them. I don’t think he’ll be comfortable around the kids, now that Wrex is learning to headbutt.”

“Correction: I’m _teaching_ him to headbutt,” Sunday grinned as she fed the krogan that barely got to her knees. The red-eyed toddler was just as energetic as Bakara had predicted he would be, but now that Sunday was fully recovered, she had said she was up to the challenge of raising a child like him.

“I still think it’s too early for that,” Garrus replied, making sure Wrex’s food didn’t touch Liddy’s. The turian girl was sitting on the kitchen counter, balancing her feet and giggling at the sight of her brother’s short limbs. Liddy was tall and slender like Garrus, even at her short age, and her eyes were the same blue as her father’s.

“I like Dryada,” she said. “Will Kolyat and Dryada marry someday?”

“Asking about weddings again?” Sunday asked, looking back over her shoulder.

“Grandpa says he didn’t go to your wedding. Can you get married again?” the girl asked.

“We’re already married, Deedee,” her mother said, looking at Garrus for support.

_Oh, fuck._

He had _that_ look on his face.

“Well… It wouldn’t be a bad idea…” Garrus said, rubbing his chin slowly. “After all, it _is_ true: neither my father nor Anderson or Hackett were able to make it.”

 _“Vakarian…”_ Sunday warned him.

“What?” he smiled. “Next year we’ll have been married for fifteen years. What better way to celebrate?”

Sunday left Wrex on the floor and wiped her hands before approaching Garrus. “Wanna go out there and settle this over some wrestling, Vakarian?”

Garrus laughed and threw his arms around her. “Maybe tonight, dear. Maybe tonight.”

*** * * * * * * * * ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from Macross Plus's song, "After, in the dark".
> 
> Thank you for reading Code Blue! It's been really nice to write this Shepard's story. I hope you've enjoyed it!


End file.
